


Treachery

by Lynse



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien's feelings are obvious but Ladybug is oblivious, Akumatized Adrien Agreste, Akumatized Chat Noir, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betrayal, Choices, Conundrums, F/M, Gabriel Agreste as Hawk Moth, Gen, Identity Reveal, Lies, Manipulation, Masks, Reveal Fic, Season/Series 01 Spoilers, Secrets, Suspense, Treachery, apparently an emotional rollercoaster, this got darker than I'd expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 61,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynse/pseuds/Lynse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Adrien, the ultimatum almost sounded like a catch 22. It wasn't until it was too late that he realized it had been a catalyst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set immediately after _Jackady_ but contains spoilers for all of season one and follows the assumption that Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth. Standard disclaimers apply.

Gabriel Agreste was a man of secrets.

He was well acquainted with playing his cards close to his chest, of knowing when to drop hints and when to simply let others draw their own conclusions—however false—by what could be taken as an implication. He was a successful businessman, after all. He knew when to make his move and how to strike most effectively.

She was the only one who had really known him, but then she had slipped through his defences before he’d ever realized it.

 _She’d_ played _him_ , and she’d stolen his heart before he’d understood it wasn’t a game, let alone one he couldn’t win.

And now that she was gone, he had devoted himself to getting her back.

He had tried keeping Adrien at arm’s length to keep him from being swallowed by the vast hole she had left in their lives, had tried to keep him away from everything that had destroyed Gabriel’s own life. He had tried to keep his son safe.

He was now absolutely certain that he had failed.

Gabriel shut the ancient book with a snap, allowing himself only that one show of anger. There was no doubt in his mind now. Adrien had never worn that ring before, just as he had never….

Gabriel took a measured breath as he replaced the book, closing the safe and concealing it behind the commissioned painting. Façades and masks were more a part of his life now than they had ever been before. He should not have been surprised that the web of lies spun in this family had extended to his son, but the realization that he’d been fooled by the same mask as the rest of the city left a bitter taste in his mouth.

His son was Chat Noir.

He had been trying to lure out and vanquish Chat Noir for _months_ , convinced the hero’s destruction was the only way to secure his Miraculous, and his own son wielded the Ring of the Black Cat.

Gabriel needed far more than the ring, of course. Quite aside from the fact that he needed both Miraculous to achieve what he had in mind, Ladybug had the ability to cleanse his akuma. Obtaining her Miraculous was paramount to his success, both short term and long term. So far, she had been _lucky_ enough to evade every trap he had set, every web he had spun. Her Miraculous had always been his priority, had he had a choice, since she was the greater thorn in his side. Acquiring Chat Noir’s Miraculous would be child’s play if Ladybug were not there to fight with him. Gaining Chat Noir’s first, however, would strike a deep blow, one arguably more psychologically crippling than physically. 

There was less room for error without her partner to back her up, but he had pitted Ladybug against Chat Noir before and she had come out victorious. 

When she had reason to, she could defeat her partner in battle.

But that was when she had been fighting to free him.

If she weren’t fighting to free him, if she were merely _fighting_ him, the terms would be different. And if he could disrupt their trust, that became much more likely. He needed Ladybug unbalanced. He needed to her to make mistakes. He needed to force her to rely on her partner and pull that support away.

That could very well be possible now that he knew what he did.

Adrien could not know the truth, of course. His insistence that he attend school had been the first in a long line of rebellious acts. Still, Gabriel was Adrien’s father. He knew which battles were worth fighting. And he knew when persuasion was his best weapon.

Gabriel’s right hand tightened into a fist before he could stop it, but he forced his fingers to unclench as he turned away from the painting. He could not allow anyone to see that everything was different now; he could not risk someone questioning any apparent change. His newfound knowledge gave him a great advantage, but a foolish move on his part could squander it, and he couldn’t have that.

He needed his mask to fool _everyone_ , especially those closest to him, and most particularly Adrien. He needed time to plan his next move, to set the board as he required. When he was ready, he would begin, and this time the game would end with both the Earrings of the Ladybug and the Ring of the Black Cat in his possession.

-|-

Chat Noir landed next to her on one of the balustrades of the _Palais Garnier_ with a grin and took a moment to survey the people milling about below—innocent people who were still unaware of the danger they might be in, people who hadn’t yet noticed the arrival of Ladybug and Chat Noir. “This one blends into the crowd well, doesn’t he, my lady?” he asked.

Marinette rolled her eyes. Hawk Moth’s latest akuma victim called himself Mirror Image, and they knew little else of him. Unlike Reflekta, he did not remake everyone who crossed his path in his image. Instead, he gained the ability to steal theirs, and that made him nearly impossible to track. He was a shapeshifter, and his likenesses were as good as Copycat’s had been to Chat Noir.

They weren’t sure of his goals yet; there had been no flashy displays of revenge, no public kidnappings to inspire terror. They didn’t know his motives, and they didn’t know where the akuma was hiding.

Right now, they didn’t even know where _he_ was hiding. She and Chat Noir had tried to slip inside quietly and stay above the crowd, but the few seconds they didn’t have their eyes on Mirror Image had been enough for him to change. She’d thought he wouldn’t be able to in the open, but clearly she’d been wrong. There was no sign of the man they’d tailed.

“There has to be something common in every appearance he takes,” Marinette said, trying to reason out a way to defeat him. “That would be where the akuma is, and it’s the only key we’ve got to finding him out if we’re faced with two identical people. That will be the only way we’ll be able to spot the doppelgänger.”

“But we don’t know what that thing is,” Chat Noir pointed out.

“I know. We need to find out.” Marinette bit her lip. It wasn’t time to use Lucky Charm yet, not when she wasn’t even certain they had Mirror Image in their sights. Cataclysm wouldn’t do them any good, either. Had Mirror Image led them here because he had other business to accomplish or had he simply been trying to lose himself in the crowd?

“Any idea how?”

 _No_. But she couldn’t say that. Chat Noir was counting on her; _Paris_ was counting on her. She needed to come up with something. Marinette leaned forward over the railing, eyes darting everywhere at once as she tried to put together a plan. She needed to draw out Mirror Image, but how was she to do that when he hadn’t even told them what he wanted?

Except he had, of course. Not clearly, but each supervillain they fought had powers designed to achieve whatever they had sought in the first place. Mirror Image was a shapeshifter; he had not become a duplicate of one specific person. As Chat Noir said, he blended into the crowd. Maybe that had been his desire all along: to blend in and not be noticed. Stealing their Miraculous might seem like a fair trade to someone who craved anonymity, and she had to admit it wouldn’t necessarily be exactly difficult when they weren’t sure if they could trust anyone, even each other, without being confident that the other person wasn’t just the current persona of Mirror Image.

“Maybe he’s someone famous,” Marinette murmured, “and he’s tired of the spotlight, tired of the pressure of always being who he is. Maybe he was just tired of being so recognizable.”

Beside her, Chat Noir was quiet. She’d expected one smart remark or another to come out of his mouth, but in the end all he said was, “An escape like that never is forever, even if it might feel freeing.”

Marinette blinked. He made it sound like—

“If he doesn’t want attention,” Chat Noir reasoned, “then he’ll still try to avoid it.”

Marinette realized what he was thinking almost immediately. “You have better eyes than I do, kitty, so I’ll be the distraction.” She didn’t add what they both knew: the media favoured focusing on her, anyway, and it was to her that the people looked first during an attack. It was attention she wasn’t sure she deserved, especially when Chat Noir _was_ her partner and didn’t receive an equal share, but he seemed happy to stay in the shadows and let her be the face of their partnership.

Still, whether she liked it or not, the simple fact of the matter was that she would draw a larger crowd than he if she dropped down in the midst of the people below.

For all that people knew Copycat had merely been another supervillain and not Chat Noir himself, she wasn’t convinced they didn’t still judge him for Copycat’s actions, either.

Marinette wrapped her yo-yo around a chandelier and dropped into the crowd. She quickly assured people they weren’t in any immediate danger—which was true, given Mirror Image’s abilities—and the crowd around her increased as a result. Phones and cameras were shoved in her face as people pushed up beside her to get a picture with her. Others flooded her with questions—everything from _what brings you here?_ to _what’s it like to be a superhero?_ —and she tried to answer without giving too much away.

_Good luck, Chat Noir._

-|-

No one spotted Chat Noir lurking in the shadows, but Adrien had been counting on that. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see anyone shying away from the crowd, either, which was _also_ what he’d been counting on. No one was trying to get away from the crush of people, away from the attention, away from Ladybug. 

Which meant Mirror Image wasn’t among them, he was being clever and going with the flow of things, or Ladybug was wrong about him and why he’d been akumatized.

Adrien headed for the exit, planning to circle the building and maybe catch Mirror Image when he fled—assuming he didn’t go out the main entrance. He thought he’d gotten lucky when someone dressed as an employee opened the back door and froze, but the stammering woman in the black and white uniform didn’t make any snide remarks or try to take his Miraculous. Since Adrien knew Hawk Moth didn’t tolerate people who strayed from his primary objective, he thought it was safe to say that she wasn’t the one he was looking for.

Of course, he couldn’t explain who he was looking for, either. Not really. “Have you come across anyone who hasn’t been acting like themselves?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Sorry, no.” She hesitated before stepping back to allow him entrance, tucking an escaped lock of auburn hair back into place in her braid as she did so. “If you wouldn’t mind, could you sign a photograph for my son? He idolizes you and Ladybug. If you possibly have the time….”

Adrien smiled. “Of course.” He didn’t mind signing autographs as Chat Noir, and even though he risked losing Mirror Image, they hadn’t found him yet anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time he and Ladybug had had to sit back and wait for a villain to make a move before tracking them down.

The woman’s name was Lucille Moreau, her son Pierre. She only had a piece of paper for him to sign, not a photograph itself, but he knew her name and that she was a custodian here at the _Palais Garnier_. He would be able to track her down and drop a signed picture off from both him and Ladybug. She wouldn’t protest posing for one when this was over, not when he explained why, and that way he would have a copy, too, even if he could never show it to anyone else.

“I could show you the back rooms,” Lucille offered. After thanking him profusely, she had tucked away the signature—which was nothing more than a tiny black cat he’d drawn on a scrap of paper from her pocket—and now she was ready to lose her job for his sake. “Is there anything specific you’d like to see?”

“No, no,” he insisted, even though he knew there was no use dithering in the entryway. One door led to the nearest stairwell, while the other exit looked to be the nearest path to those back rooms Lucille had mentioned. He had no idea which way Mirror Image might have gone, and his best hope—futile though it was—was still guarding the exits to see who was willing to pass up the opportunity to speak with Ladybug. “I don’t—”

“Perhaps you’re looking for someone?” Realizing she’d already voiced this question, she flushed. “I mean, someone else, as well as anything out of the ordinary….”

Adrien blinked. “No, I’m not—”

“Of course,” she continued, overriding him, “you must be searching for Ladybug, yes? You wouldn’t be the sort to be unfaithful to her or imagine she is that way to you. You are Chat Noir. But perhaps I should let someone else show you around, simply so there are no misunderstandings.” She avoided his gaze and managed to duck away from his outstretched hand. “André’s on shift; if you’ll wait a moment, Chat Noir.”

She disappeared around the corner before he could voice a protest. He followed, but the corridor was empty and every door in sight was shut. Were _all_ women so good at disappearing like that when they wanted to? Ladybug could vanish in a moment, but he’d always assumed it was because she could remove her mask and blend into the crowd. 

He strode halfway down the hallway, looking for some sign of Lucille if only so he could apologize—he wasn’t even sure what he had done wrong, but he had a feeling he needed to apologize for something—but he knew he shouldn’t stay here. Reluctantly, he turned back.

And nearly jumped when he saw someone standing patiently behind him.

“Chat Noir?” It was a young boy, perhaps eight or nine—too young, he assumed, to be this André Lucille had mentioned. He wasn’t dressed in any sort of uniform, either, but rather jeans and a black windbreaker over a red shirt—which begged the question of why he was back here in the first place. Someone’s son, come to meet them as they got off shift? He wasn’t carrying a backpack, didn’t have a hat or a pin or any sort of identification that Adrien could see, unless it was in his pockets. Surely he wasn’t simply _lost_.

Adrien crouched down so he could look the boy in the eye. He still felt like curling in on himself whenever his father loomed over him, and he didn’t want to intimidate this kid. Especially if he _was_ just lost. Hopefully Lucille would come back soon; she’d know and be able to help either way. “Yes?”

The boy grinned suddenly, and it was a grin which looked horribly out of place on his young face. It was more sinister than joyful. Adrien reached for his staff, but the boy’s words—Mirror Image’s, really—froze him in place. “Bring me Ladybug’s Miraculous or I will destroy her.”

Adrien faltered, and Mirror Image turned and ran. Adrien scrambled after him, trying to come to terms with the fact that Mirror Image hadn’t changed form—even into him, like another Copycat—in order to fight. The boy had been a suitable distraction but would now be easy enough to overwhelm, if it came to that. Changing forms would have made sense.

Running?

Running didn’t make sense, not when he would be under Hawk Moth’s orders to collect Adrien’s Miraculous. 

There was no sign of the boy when Adrien got outside, and though he imagined Mirror Image had already transformed again, he extended his staff and took to the rooftops. He’d have a better vantage point from there. And looking would give him time to think, to figure this out. Hopefully.

Threatening Ladybug wasn’t _new_ , exactly, but threatening her in this way was. Plenty of villains had tried to destroy her, and she had bested all of them. Mirror Image’s powers were arguably limited when it came to offense. He couldn’t _destroy_ Ladybug.

Could he?

Copycat had managed to turn the city against Chat Noir with one act, and Mirror Image could do the same.

But that was destroying her reputation, not destroying _her_. 

Surely…surely Mirror Image could just mimic people’s appearances. Surely he wasn’t a copy like Copycat had been, one who could also mimic his powers….

The thought made Adrien’s stomach turn. What if Mirror Image tricked Ladybug by pretending to be him? If he _did_ possess Chat Noir’s own powers in that case, and he could use Cataclysm, then….

No. That wouldn’t happen. It _couldn’t_ ; Mirror Image wouldn’t have tried to bargain with Chat Noir for Ladybug’s Miraculous if that were the case. He would simply trick her and take it himself. He wouldn’t need Adrien to do it for him.

 _Why did he need Adrien to do it for him?_ It didn’t make sense. Copycat had nearly tricked Ladybug into giving up Chat Noir’s Miraculous; she wouldn’t fall for a similar thing again. Ladybug knew him too well for that. Hawk Moth _had_ to know that.

But maybe Hawk Moth did know that. And maybe that wasn’t all he knew. Maybe it wasn’t a proposal from Mirror Image but an ultimatum from Hawk Moth. _Bring me Ladybug’s Miraculous or I will destroy her._ Hawk Moth would be more capable of carrying out such a threat than Mirror Image. His primary objective had always been the Miraculous rather than destroying Paris’s heroes—at least, that’s what Adrien had thought; clearly he could be wrong on that—but maybe Hawk Moth had decided that destroying them would be the only way to achieve that objective. And maybe he knew Chat Noir would do anything to keep Ladybug safe.

But…could he really trade her safety for her Miraculous? Hand that power over to Hawk Moth? She wouldn’t thank him for it. He knew she wouldn’t. She took terrible risks as Ladybug. He had nearly lost her more than once, and it had torn at his heart every time, but she would do anything to save Paris and its citizens.

And he would do anything to save her.

He loved her.

She hadn’t realized that, but Adrien was filled with a horrible conviction that Hawk Moth had.

Taking Ladybug’s Miraculous…. It didn’t ensure Hawk Moth’s victory. Adrien might still be able to best him. But without her ability to cleanse the akuma, Adrien would be at a distinct disadvantage—quite possibly one from which he couldn’t recover. By that thinking, Ladybug’s Miraculous was more valuable to Hawk Moth than Adrien’s own, but he clearly wanted both of them. They didn’t know why, exactly, but they didn’t need to know the details to know that no one else would benefit from the Miraculous falling into Hawk Moth’s hands.

Adrien _couldn’t_ betray Ladybug and hand over her Miraculous.

But he also couldn’t stand to see her destroyed— _killed_ , his mind whispered, the mere word as sharp as a dagger to his heart—when he had a chance to prevent it.

Adrien didn’t think Hawk Moth’s threat was empty. The villains he created gloated and boasted, but this had not been a challenge from one of them. Adrien understood that now. It had been a challenge from Hawk Moth himself, an ultimatum he wouldn’t have made unless he was confident that he could carry out his threat. He had devised some way to destroy Ladybug, whether or not Mirror Image was his means. And then he had used _that_ to lay his trap for them.

Adrien knew agreeing to Hawk Moth’s demands would be foolish, but he couldn’t lose Ladybug. She meant too much to him. But she meant much to this city as well; Paris looked to her as a symbol of hope, a means of fighting the villain who had cast a shadow upon them all. Taking her Miraculous would destroy that symbol even it preserved the girl beneath the mask.

But if Hawk Moth would destroy her either way….

Adrien stopped and crouched on the rooftop of the _Palais Garnier_ , overlooking the main entrance. People swarmed below, coming and going, and if Mirror Image was among them, he couldn’t tell. Ladybug’s plan had failed because he’d been too slow, and he’d allowed Mirror Image to issue that ultimatum which was slowly tearing him apart inside.

He wouldn’t fear if he doubted Hawk Moth’s ability, but for him to make this move, Adrien couldn’t take the risk that it was merely a bluff. He couldn’t gamble Ladybug’s life. But, maybe, if he had to, he could gamble her Miraculous—and, inevitably, his own.

“Guess we’re going to play a game of cat and mouse,” Adrien murmured. He only wished he knew for certain which player he’d be.


	2. Chapter 2

Marinette didn’t escape the crowd until Chat Noir phoned her, though that was mostly because she’d had little use except as a distraction at that point. She’d tried memorizing the faces of those around her, hoping to notice if any had slipped off, but there had been too many.

“He didn’t take the bait, did he?” Marinette asked as she stepped outside. She looked up from the screen on her yo-yo long enough to scan the crowd, but she still didn’t notice anyone who had once been clustered around her. Those inside had not yet followed her out, no doubt fearing a fight was about to break out.

 _“Not exactly,”_ Chat Noir replied. _“Meet me on the roof.”_ The screen went blank.

Marinette frowned but twisted the lid back into place before using her yo-yo to swing skyward. She’d barely landed before Chat Noir was extending his baton and telling her it wasn’t safe to talk _here_. She rolled her eyes but followed him across the rooftops, skirting the 10th arrondissement but ultimately leaving the 9th arrondissement for the 18th. “Where are you going?” she finally called.

He stopped and glanced behind him. “Away.” 

Marinette scowled as she alighted on the rooftop beside him. She’d rather put up with joking flirts from her partner than conversation that was little better than silence when communication between them was key. At least he hadn’t darted away again, but there was something about that look in his eye…. “What aren’t you telling me, kitty?”

“We can’t find Mirror Image when he can take any form,” Chat Noir said. “And I needed to be sure you could keep up with me.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “I can do more than keep up with you.”

“No need to bug out. I know _you_ can. But that doesn’t mean Mirror Image can.”

His words sunk in and she grimaced. “You think he has the potential to become another Copycat.” She shook her head. “I doubt it, kitty cat. Mirror Image can only copy appearances, not abilities. And he doesn’t seem to be doing opposites, either, so we should be safe from another Antibug.”

Chat Noir frowned. “We don’t know that for sure. What if he can mirror abilities as well as appearances? It wouldn’t hurt to have some sort of safe code between us so we know the other one isn’t just a poor reflection of our true selves.”

“Your last plan will still work,” Marinette pointed out. “People think we’re together. They probably think we know each other’s civilian forms. Hawk Moth won’t know that hasn’t changed, and Mirror Image isn’t going to make a different assumption. Especially not if he’s ever looked at the Ladyblog.” She couldn’t believe some of the theories on there—only some of which were postulated by Alya—but she couldn’t make a good argument against most of them without revealing more than she should know, especially since Alya thought she tried to hide during most attacks.

Some emotion flicked across Chat Noir’s features, but it was gone before Marinette could discern it. He had his trademark grin firmly in its place. “My lady,” he purred, “that you would make such a suggestion is paw-sitively—”

“Save it for next time we get split up and I come to you,” Marinette said, giving Chat Noir a shove. It was a touch harder than necessary, and he had to fling his arms out to catch his balance again. She felt a bit guilty at that; the peaked roof they stood on didn’t leave much room for error on that front. 

And Chat Noir—annoying as he could be—was not the true object of her negative emotions.

Marinette sighed and looked out at the city unfolded before them. The _Basilique du Sacré-Cœur_ was easy to pick out, rising from the hilltop some distance ahead of them. They currently stood closer to the _Marché Barbès_ in the _Goutte d’Or_ ; she had been shopping with her parents at that market a handful of times when on the hunt for ingredients fit for delicious African cuisine, but she knew this part of the city better from above than below.

And she’d always had her partner with her when exploring, especially in the beginning. She had no reason to be short with him. “I’m sorry, kitty. I’m just frustrated. We’re not going to be able to find Mirror Image until he pulls something, and we always run the risk of being too late when we have to wait for that.” They’d been lucky so far, but she wasn’t sure how long their luck would hold. There had been too many close calls.

There had been too many close calls even when one of them had been there almost immediately.

“I don’t think he’ll hurt any civilians,” Chat Noir said slowly. “Not physically, anyway.”

“He doesn’t seem the type,” Marinette agreed, “but without knowing his motive, we have to be prepared for anything. Maybe he never wanted to blend into the crowd after all and instead was hoping to impersonate some high officials to get…something.” She bit her lip. It would be too hard to watch them all, not when they hadn’t any idea who might be the target. If anyone.

The mayor was a good place to start, unfortunately, but they couldn’t watch the mayor without Chloé involving herself. 

Marinette grimaced. “The mayor—”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Chat Noir volunteered. Marinette blinked, not surprised that he’d picked up on her plan but rather that he’d agree to watch Chloé’s father given what tended to happen when he spent time in close proximity to Chloé. He might never have mentioned anything to Marinette, but he had made a comment about physics homework to Ladybug, and she knew Antibug’s implication that Ladybug wasn’t worthy to be his partner had rubbed him the wrong way. “I….” He hesitated, then explained, “I know some people who know him well. I can ask around, find out enough to notice if Mirror Image tried to switch with him.”

Marinette wasn’t convinced that was the whole truth, but she wasn’t going to question Chat Noir if it meant she could avoid the Bourgeois family. 

Selfish, true, but Chat Noir was still the better choice if he—or his civilian self, whatever the case may be—would be able to find out enough about the mayor to spot a potential masquerade. All of her run-ins with him told her little more than that he would pander to his daughter’s every wish, and half of Paris could have realized that. She wasn’t willing to bet Mirror Image wouldn’t have that knowledge.

“Okay,” Marinette agreed. “I’ll….” What could she do to help? She wouldn’t be able to spot a switch with anyone important, and they’d never know where to look if Mirror Image targeted someone not in the public’s eye. Not unless…. Not unless someone else noticed first. “I’ll talk to the police.” Sabrina’s dad would be more than happy to work with her if she explained what was at stake even if he had insisted he didn’t need their help before. She suspected he still felt bad knowing that he had once terrorized Paris, even if his negative emotions had been amplified and used by Hawk Moth.

Chat Noir nodded and leapt away without saying goodbye. He was heading in the direction of the _Grand Paris_ , but there was something….

Something was different, and Marinette couldn’t put her finger on what exactly that was. Were it not for the fact that Mirror Image would not have had the skill to lead her on such a merry chase or that he would not have brought attention to his act, she might have suspected he’d already taken Chat Noir’s place. The silly cat wasn’t being himself, not really.

She didn’t have time to puzzle out the reason. It likely wasn’t any of her business anyway, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted from Mirror Image. It was far easier fighting villains with clear-cut motives. This one…. He had her on edge. Every villain was different, but their objectives if not their motives tended to be obvious soon enough. They weren’t even sure how long Mirror Image had been active before he’d practically offered himself up to them.

Marinette frowned.

Mirror Image _had_ offered himself to them. He had revealed his name, his abilities, dancing like bait on a hook. He had taunted them into showing up, into finding him and giving chase. She could see no other reason for him to appear on KIDZ+ as Alec Cataldi when the real Monsieur Cataldi was in the middle of a program. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time; revealing himself was the only way to draw out her and Chat Noir, something he would need to do to fetch their Miraculous.

But then he hadn’t even tried to fight them and obtain their Miraculous, hadn’t even tried to split them up to masquerade as one of them like Chat Noir feared he would in the future.

But why not? It was arguably a good plan. If he’d acted without giving them time to think, he might have had a chance to succeed. He’d had ample opportunity once they’d split up; he could have come to her or Chat Noir pretending to be the other and would have surely made progress even without being able to mimic their abilities.

Only he hadn’t.

He’d disappeared instead and given them time to think. Time to carry out whatever he intended himself, perhaps, rather than merely holding up his bargain with Hawk Moth, but he would have had ample time to do that beforehand. It made her stomach twist to think it, but it was very possible that he _had_ already made his move, whatever it had been, without them ever realizing it. It wouldn’t be the first time a villain had been active for a time without notice. The Vanisher had done just that, worrying her parents once they’d realized she hadn’t just gone for a sleepover at the Bourgeois residence. If Mirror Image was the same, with a feasible alibi for his absence….

Well, there was no use worrying about that yet. Lieutenant Roger would be able to tell her about any recently-filed missing persons reports. There was always a chance that she’d get lucky. If she could identify Mirror Image, then they’d be one step closer to stopping him.

-|-

Chat Noir didn’t know what to do with the ultimatum. Gabriel had expected as much; even if he were not privy to the inside of Adrien’s room, it was obvious that Chat Noir cared deeply for Ladybug. Gabriel had wondered how to best use that to his advantage before, so Chat Noir should not be wholly surprised by Hawk Moth’s terms. The knowledge of Chat Noir’s true identity had merely made the rest of the game simple.

Adrien was already in over his head, but Gabriel knew the boy had been put in that position back when he had first received the Miraculous. He would not have been told everything. He would have been left to operate on dangerous assumptions, and no matter how Gabriel had tried to keep him out of all of this, his son had been involved from the start. 

But if Adrien wore the Ring of the Black Cat, then he was willing to accept the risks. He would soon see just how much of a fool he was for doing so without knowing all of those risks. Parents needed to teach their children difficult lessons sometimes, and this would be no different.

Gabriel’s grip tightened on his cane. He kept his gaze fixed on the window, ignoring the butterflies around him in favour of focusing on the akuma he had sent out. Mirror Image had marked Chat Noir’s initial shock and subsequent flight before sinking back into the woodwork. He had already completed much of what he had desired—he had taken on the guise of his wife to trick her lover but had yet to confront his wife as the other man—but Gabriel was willing to give him a little more time to play before reminding him of their deal. 

He had given Mirror Image the ability to take any shape he wished. In return, Hawk Moth had asked for the message to be delivered the Chat Noir without arousing Ladybug’s suspicion and—if the plan did not play out as intended—only then for the Miraculous to be targeted and retrieved.

Revenge would be sweeter if Ladybug fell at Chat Noir’s hand.

Gabriel knew his son. If he truly loved Ladybug, he would not care who was beneath the mask and he would deliver her Miraculous to preserve her safety. It might take him some time and encouragement to reach that conclusion, but he would come to it nonetheless. 

-|-

Adrien checked in on the Bourgeois residence, finding both Chloé and her father home, and saw enough through the window to be confident that both of them were wholly themselves. He hadn’t expected Mirror Image to pull anything with them, but he hadn’t wanted to lie to Ladybug, either.

He would have to do enough of that as it was.

And checking on them did give him a good excuse to go off on his own again and have time to just _think_.

Adrien bounded up to the roof, checked to make sure the access was currently locked, and ‘accidentally’ used Cataclysm to take out the cameras. They would be fixed when Ladybug restored everything once the akuma was purified.

If the akuma was purified.

If he didn’t betray Ladybug first.

Adrien slumped down by the ledge behind the entryway, thinking that if someone did come up and surprise him, he would at least have enough time to transform again before they spotted him.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and twisted his fingers into his hair. He _needed_ to figure something out. He was already feeling guilty, the sickening, twisting feeling in his chest arriving at the mere _thought_ of his upcoming betrayal, and it wasn’t helping him think clearly. Adrien groaned, heard his ring beep once, and muttered, “Claws in, Plagg.” Maybe he could talk this out with Plagg and figure out a plan.

“ _Cheese_ ,” Plagg gasped as he landed on Adrien’s knee.

Or not.

Adrien looked up to glare at his kwami—he would need to recharge after the use of Cataclysm, but he would not be quite _that_ exhausted—and dug in his pocket for some camembert. He realized only after he’d pulled it out that it was all he had; he’d have to buy more after his next transformation—which would be soon, since he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get off this roof without transforming again.

Plagg immediately perked up and began inhaling what he considered a delicacy, despite Adrien’s disagreement. Adrien watched him for a moment before deciding that, ill-fitted as Plagg might be for heart-to-heart discussions, he would have to have advice. He _must_ have more experience at this sort of thing than Adrien.

“What am I supposed to do about Hawk Moth’s ultimatum?” Adrien asked, knowing Plagg was well aware of the situation. 

“Ignore it,” Plagg answered immediately. He swallowed and added, “You can’t give Hawk Moth Ladybug’s Miraculous.”

“But—”

“Would you hand _me_ over to him?”

Would he, in order to save Ladybug? In order to _spare_ Ladybug? “Of course not,” Adrien answered, hating himself for admitting it. How could he even entertain the idea of stealing away her Miraculous without at least offering up his own in exchange, to her _or_ to Hawk Moth?

But Adrien didn’t want to abandon Plagg, who was arguably one of his first friends and the only one from whom he didn’t keep secrets. Plagg didn’t deserve that. And Adrien didn’t want to become someone who abandoned the ones he cared about.

Or should care about.

Plagg eyed him suspiciously; he had not missed Adrien’s hesitation. “You’d be doing the same to Tikki if you removed Ladybug’s earrings, and she doesn’t deserve the fate she’d get if you did.” Tikki, Adrien assumed, was Ladybug’s kwami. He wasn’t surprised that Plagg knew her, but this was the first time Adrien could remember him mentioning her. 

“So Tikki would be further ahead if Hawk Moth managed to destroy Ladybug? Plagg, if I could save her—”

“You can’t.” 

“But—”

“Adrien, Ladybug knows the risks as well as you do. _Better_ than you do, since she probably heard Tikki out at the beginning. The Miraculous aren’t meant to be used for evil, and Hawk Moth will twist them if he has the chance. How easy do you think it will be to fight against someone who has the power of luck on their side? The ability to create whatever they need to achieve their goals?”

“Ladybug beat Antibug,” Adrien pointed out, “and she had the same powers. How is that any different?”

“She had _similar_ powers,” Plagg retorted. “A copy isn’t a Miraculous. You should know that. That’s why Copycat was so desperate to gain yours. Hawk Moth wants the Miraculous, and he’ll want Tikki and me with them. He’d control us. Do you really think Ladybug would be any safer when Hawk Moth is more powerful than he is now, all because he has her Miraculous?”

Adrien frowned. “But Hawk Moth might get it anyway. He could overpower her, maybe even kill her, and just take it. He could do the same to me.”

“But instead he’s using you.” Plagg licked the last crumbs of cheese from his paws. “Because he thinks you’ll betray Ladybug to spare her—at least as much as anyone would be spared when he has her Miraculous.”

 _But I would betray her_. Wouldn’t he, to see her safe? Adrien closed his eyes and leaned his head back, sunlight tingeing the darkness of his eyelids red. The air suddenly felt dead and still, the once-pleasant day now too warm and suffocating. In stark contrast to the cool concrete beneath him that had been in shadow, the top of the ledge felt like it was scorching the back of his head. He took a ragged breath, trying to focus. He shouldn’t even be contemplating this. 

Plagg was right about one thing: he couldn’t just hand Hawk Moth Ladybug’s Miraculous. If he gave Hawk Moth more power, there was nothing to stop the man from turning on him and taking _his_ Miraculous. That was likely his plan anyway, and Adrien couldn’t be the reason both Ladybug _and_ Chat Noir were defeated by Hawk Moth.

But he couldn’t bear to be the reason Hawk Moth destroyed Ladybug, either.

Hawk Moth wouldn’t be fooled by copies this time. Adrien wished he dared try—it wouldn’t be hard to get his hands on a Ladybug costume and their earrings—but Hawk Moth would be watching for such an obvious ploy. If he was going to try to fool Hawk Moth, he’d need to go about it another way.

But what other way _was_ there?

Now would be an excellent time to speak with Ladybug, were she not the subject at hand. She had a keen mind for coming up with plans. Unfortunately, he had a feeling she’d rather sacrifice herself than let Hawk Moth take her Miraculous. Knowing that didn’t make his decision any easier; he couldn’t _let_ her sacrifice herself. She was too important—to him, and to Paris. 

But the only bargaining chip he had that would interest Hawk Moth was his own Miraculous. And Plagg.

It would have to be enough.

Adrien opened his eyes, squinting against the brightness for a moment before staring up at the cloudless sky. “Plagg, do you trust me?”

“I don’t trust you not to do something stupid,” Plagg answered, “but I do trust you.”

Adrien grimaced before straightening up and looking at the kwami, who hadn’t moved from his perch on Adrien’s right knee. “I need to ask that you’ll trust me anyway.” Plagg just stared at him, motionless but for a flicking tail, so Adrien added, “I’ll buy you an extra wheel of camembert if we get through this.”

Plagg crossed his arms. His antennae twitched. “A day,” he said. “For a month.”

“A week,” Adrien countered, “for two.”

“Three.”

“Deal.” Adrien smiled. Bribing Plagg wasn’t necessary, but cheese was really the only thing Adrien could offer the kwami. He wasn’t sure exactly what was coming; chances were Plagg had a better idea than he, but sometimes getting information out of Plagg could be like pulling teeth—unless he already had extra camembert in hand. Still, Adrien doubted it would be pretty.

Chat Noir’s Miraculous really _was_ the only thing Adrien had to offer Hawk Moth. The Miraculous and Plagg.

And himself.

But he’d have to make do.

He just hoped Ladybug would be able to forgive him if they made it through this alive.

-|-

Mirror Image shed his current persona and became Chat Noir, as per Hawk Moth’s latest instructions. He did not mind; he’d checked on his own targets and determined that now was not the best time for the next confrontation. They would need to feel the same pain of betrayal as he; he could not spare them. It was not yet time to act further. Not on that front.

On this one, however….

 _Trick Ladybug_ , Hawk Moth had ordered. _We must spring the trap so that all betrayers will know their fate._

Ladybug and Chat Noir had both betrayed his master, and their blatant use of the Miraculous was nothing short of rebellion. Mirror Image was familiar with such resistance from children. Hawk Moth’s plan would offer suitable discouragement for the two of them—and for any others who might decide to follow in their footsteps.

Mirror Image had checked on the real Chat Noir first, of course. He’d wanted to act against him then, but a forceful reprimand from Hawk Moth had reminded him of the plan. Chat Noir must be allowed to act freely.

For now.

Mirror Image finally spotted Ladybug as she walked out of a police station and dropped down lightly beside her, remembering his character. He was cloaked in more than a mere mirage—Hawk Moth had granted him limited abilities and mimicry of his current form, certainly nothing perfect but enough to fool anyone who didn’t look too closely. Ladybug, unfortunately, _did_ have a reputation for looking closely, so he needed to make sure he didn’t give her reason to. “My lady,” he said quickly, “I think I know what Mirror Image is up to.”

Ladybug favoured him with a secretive smile and leaned in close, the tip of her nose only inches from his. “Oh, do tell, kitty.” 

Her tone and actions implied more than her words, and Mirror Image hesitated, taken aback by the response. It did not fit what he had been told. Hawk Moth didn’t chime in with advice, either—he perhaps feared Ladybug noticing that ‘Chat Noir’ looked distracted—so Mirror Image gave the best response he could. “He’s not after some _one_ important,” he said, sticking to the plan and ignoring Ladybug’s implications. He knew he needed to be vague less he misstep here, but between what he had overheard and what Hawk Moth had inferred, he was confident in his little speech. “He’s after some _thing_ important.”

Ladybug blinked, her previous demeanour dropping away like a mask as she pulled back. Mirror Image wondered if he should have responded in kind earlier, but then she frowned and said, “I suppose that would make sense, if he needs to steal something, but how are we supposed to figure out if your hunch is right? I wasn’t able to find out anything useful, so we aren’t any further ahead when it comes to figuring out his real identity.”

Mirror Image was shaking his head by the time Ladybug had finished. “It’s not just a hunch. I….” This was the dangerous part. Hawk Moth had insisted upon it, saying Ladybug would not be fooled without it, but the danger….

No. He remembered Hawk Moth’s ire, what his _displeasure_ felt like. He could not change the plan. Not now, not like this.

“I…I spoke with him,” Mirror Image said. Fortunately, Ladybug seemed to attribute his hesitation, his reluctance, to another reason. He would use that against her. “Earlier. I didn’t want to tell you, since I couldn’t stop him, but then I realized…. I realized something he said was a clue.”

Realization sparked in Ladybug’s eyes. “That’s why you wanted a code for when we were separated. You thought he would try something. What did he tell you?”

“That our Miraculous isn’t the only treasure in the city.”

Ladybug sucked in a breath. “That hardly narrows it down.” Her lips thinned, and she nodded. “But it’s more than we had to go on so far. Good job, Chat Noir.”

She looked at him as if she expected something more. He didn’t know what to tell her. Was that suspicion in her eyes? Best to distract her if it was. “So, now that the cat’s out of the bag, what’s the plan?”

“Speaking with the guards at the Louvre, I suppose, in case Mirror Image decides to try something like Copycat did.” Her frown returned. Was she merely unhappy with that course of action or did she suspect the trap of his words? “I don’t think he would, but we can’t discount that. What if he’s after someone’s private collection? Or some secret recipe or piece of intellectual knowledge? A treasure…. That could be anything!”

Yes. It _could_ mean anything. That’s precisely what he’d wanted her to think.

“A love letter,” Mirror Image suggested, remembering how she’d acted earlier. He had a few scenarios in his head for what to do next, all depending on when Ladybug decided to bite. But given her earlier words, perhaps this would be the best bait. “A lock.”

Ladybug blanched. She would know as well as he did that many of the love locks had been removed, both those adorning the _Pont des Arts_ and elsewhere. Looking for a specific one, even if the panel to which it was attached had not yet been removed, would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. But all he needed was for her to be willing to _try_.

“Let’s check the bridges along the Seine,” Ladybug suggested as she pulled out her yo-yo. “Just in case it _is_ a love lock and still due to be removed. It’s better than nothing, and you’re right, kitty. The greatest treasures are often those with sentimental value.” 

Mirror Image smiled, showing off Chat Noir’s brilliant teeth before making an extravagant bow. “After you, my lady.” Ladybug rolled her eyes at him and pulled out her yo-yo, swinging toward the riverbank in seconds. He followed, the grin still on his face as he leapt after her, striving to catch up.

She had not suspected him. Even if she had, her act of defiance would come too late now. 

She had already sealed her fate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t actually been to any of the places mentioned in this story, but if anyone has and wishes to correct some little detail, please do! Also, I took a few liberties with the rules regarding Hawk Moth claiming the Miraculous.

Marinette’s feet hit the deck of the love lock bridge with a soft thump, the people who had seen her coming giving her a wide berth and looking around for the villain they were sure she was hunting. She supposed it must be the look in her eyes or the set of her shoulders, some unconscious gesture on her part that made them decide whether or not it was safe to flock to her or if they would be wise to keep away. She was glad they kept their distance now, but it was still hard to not stifle a groan as she looked upon all the locks snapped onto the side of the bridge. The odd lock-filled panel had been removed and replaced with plexiglas—structural concerns, as she understood it—but there were still so many left.

Marinette walked carefully to the middle of the bridge, but no one broke from the crowd to come after her. She hoped that meant Mirror Image wasn’t here rather than that he was simply getting clever. Of course, if he _was_ here, she’d at least know Chat Noir was right. Confirming that they were indeed looking for a lock would make finding Mirror Image considerably easier. Why couldn’t he have just told them what he was after? At least some of the others had made their objective painfully clear.

It was just as well Chat Noir had suggested they split up, though perhaps not surprising given how fast he’d taken off earlier when he’d volunteered to watch over the mayor. He still was acting a bit off—she suspected he’d only confessed part of his conversation with Mirror Image, maybe thinking he could avoid worrying her with the other part, which just made him a fool—but no more so than he had been earlier, and he’d remembered enough of the situation to know not to react to her flirting. (Part of her had feared he’d forget himself and play along.) Still, she’d have time to work away at him later if he was still withholding information. 

They were clutching at straws now. She knew that. But she didn’t want to discount any reasonable possibility. A treasure could be anything, but the love locks _were_ technically one of those ‘treasures’ currently being threatened. She wasn’t sure which panels were due to be removed next, wasn’t even sure who to ask, but if they could at least find some of the more hidden locks, they would know what to keep an eye on.

Except….

Marinette hesitated, biting her lip as she ran one hand along the multitude of locks.

Except why would Mirror Image need to be _Mirror Image_ for this sort of goal? He’d be better off with a different power. He’d be better off as the Locksmith—or at least someone who had the power to persevere a particular moment in time and abused it by freezing people in place all over the city. But the ability to blend into the crowd?

No.

This was a trap.

She couldn’t spot Mirror Image—she wouldn’t recognize him if he were around, at this rate—but she _could_ warn Chat Noir that his information had been false. Mirror Image was trying to play them. He—

“ _Ladybug_!”

At the cry from the crowd, Marinette looked up from her yo-yo—opened in preparation calling her partner, a mere flick of her finger away from doing so—and had a split second to see Chat Noir hurtling towards her. She didn’t even have enough time close her yo-yo again before he hit her, _hard_ , and sent them both tumbling over the side of the bridge. He must have spotted the danger before she did, must have seen some trap about to spring closed on them. 

But that didn’t explain why he wasn’t adjusting his grip, why he was keeping her arms pinned to her sides so she couldn’t latch her yo-yo onto anything. It didn’t explain why he didn’t extend his staff. She opened her mouth to say something—

—and the chilly waters of the River Seine rushed in and over her as they slammed into the water, her back taking the brunt of it. The impact knocked the remaining breath from her body, the pain deadened only by the magical properties of her suit. She coughed and spluttered, choking as water flowed into her lungs, and instinctively struggled toward the surface to get air. The grip holding her tightened. 

They continued to drop like a stone.

Marinette’s lungs burned, her limbs slowly becoming lead, and her brain sluggishly pointed out that Chat Noir was not the one who had been fooled by false information from Mirror Image, if the two had ever even met.

And then the blackness swallowed her.

-|-

The plan was moving along. Gabriel allowed himself a small smile as he waited in the chamber, leaning on his cane and learning what he could through his connection with Mirror Image. Mirror Image had become a nondescript man beneath the waves, someone not memorable enough to describe well even if he had been the one to bravely jump in and rescue Ladybug from the river. The Parisian people could be awfully gullible, trusting too much in their pitiful heroes and the average people who would try to step up and help them, should they appear to need it. They had been easy to fool, no one questioning loudly enough the fact that Chat Noir had not surfaced.

Despite the now-viral video that had been captured of Chat Noir’s apparent betrayal, Mirror Image had still resumed that form once he’d managed to spirit Ladybug away from the scene of the crime. By that time, too few people had heard the details, and they had seen the heroes helping each other out before. It was a setback in a fight with a villain who was good at hiding in the shadows. That was all they saw: a setback. Not a defeat.

They would learn.

Gabriel didn’t worry about the real Chat Noir hearing the news. Rather, it served his purpose. It would let Adrien know he was serious, had the boy been foolish enough to doubt. 

There was still risk of the plan going awry, of course. Adrien could pull a very daring, very stupid move and try to rescue Ladybug, once he found her, rather than submitting to Hawk Moth’s will. Even if he managed to be successful—even if it came to the point where Gabriel decided to _let_ him be successful—it was not the end of their game.

If it came to it, he could change the rules. He wanted to destroy Ladybug. If necessary, he could do it by destroying Chat Noir.

She might not return his affection in the way he wished, but she still cared for him. She could not fight alongside him as she did, for as long as she had, without forming a bond with him. Adrien’s misplaced lovesickness would make him reckless. Threatening Ladybug risked sharpening her wits, making her more calculating, but with the right moves, he could still break her.

He wanted to protect his son, but relieving him of this foolishness in a way that left Ladybug convinced he was dead would be sufficient.

It was unfortunately not within in his abilities to locate Chat Noir himself—he’d have captured both him and Ladybug if that were the case—but he didn’t need to. Not with the gamble he was making.

Mirror Image wasn’t holed up anywhere near Hawk Moth’s hidden headquarters; of that, Gabriel had made sure. As long as Ladybug was transformed, Chat Noir would be able to track her. He counted on that. This venture would not work without that.

Miraculous were easy to give.

They were difficult to take.

Lady WiFi had had Ladybug pinned to a wall, and removing her Miraculous would have allowed her to reveal Ladybug’s true identity more easily than trying to tear off her mask.

Copycat had had Chat Noir in chains before Ladybug’s arrival; if he had removed the real Chat Noir’s ring, he would have been fighting Ladybug merely to hold onto it. Gabriel had not known that Adrien was Chat Noir then, but even with all his training, his son would have had difficulty going up against Copycat without getting in Ladybug’s way. Had she not seen his Miraculous, she might have thought him an innocent in the fight, someone who needed to be protected, no matter what he claimed.

The Puppeteer had controlled Chat Noir’s will; the connection would have been severed had he been encouraged to give up his Miraculous, but it would have been a defeat to use against Ladybug, something that allowed the villains to triumph. The situation with Princess Fragrance had been little different; she would still have found a devoted follower in the boy beneath the mask, and she could have secured Chat Noir’s Miraculous, perhaps even using it as bait to draw out Ladybug. 

But it wasn’t that easy. Had Copycat had more time, he might have had some success since he’d tricked Chat Noir into using Cataclysm, but Lady WiFi had _needed_ to force Ladybug to use her Lucky Charm. Otherwise, without that weakening of magic, her Miraculous would have been as difficult for Lady WiFi to remove as Ladybug’s mask had been. The Puppeteer and Princess Fragrance would have run up against difficulties as well; a Miraculous achieved that way was one taken, not one given willingly.

It was a matter of warring magic. The Miraculous, active or not, could be lost through ordinary means easily enough. The wielder of the Miraculous could choose to give up their power. Another Miraculous user, particularly one at full strength, had the power to take another active Miraculous directly. That was one reason he did not fight openly on the battlefield himself. 

But by being forced to fight his battle through others, his magic—bestowed to others as it was—was weaker. Consequently, he needed Ladybug and Chat Noir to be weakened in turn before their Miraculous could be taken. He did not tell anyone that, of course. By setting them on a goal to seize the Miraculous, the fight often led to Ladybug and Chat Noir being forced to use their special abilities—the powers of creation and destruction.

He _needed_ those abilities.

Transforming people into supervillains had begun as a way to draw out Ladybug and Chat Noir, to see their Miraculous activated. It had continued as a way of testing their abilities. He had given them time to learn and practice and get used to their new lives, but in return he had gained knowledge. He saw it as a worthwhile trade. It had allowed him to plan this.

Yes, Ladybug had nearly inadvertently taken Chat Noir’s Miraculous under Copycat’s coaxing. Yes, Chat Noir had nearly destroyed Ladybug when infected by Dark Cupid’s hate. But that was the brilliance of this plan, particularly now that he knew Chat Noir was his own son. With Adrien fully aware of what he was doing, of the consequences of meeting Hawk Moth’s demands and those of ignoring him entirely, he was far easier to predict and, therefore, to counter.

Adrien would take Ladybug’s Miraculous to protect her. It was doubtful that he would attempt to use it himself. It was extremely unlikely his kwami would ever suggest it—Gabriel might not know the kwami’s personality, but it was a safe bet it wouldn’t suggest _that_ , knowing the consequences as it would—and Adrien would be more inclined to try to protect it once it was in his possession than to manipulate its power.

If Gabriel prodded him to act with emotion—something Adrien did far more often than he ought to in the first place, given Gabriel’s training—then he would not stop to question what he might gain by manipulating Ladybug’s Miraculous. He would not even think of it. He would not have been chosen as Chat Noir if his first thoughts were ones to turn to power, to greed. That was not the way the Guardian gifted the Miraculous.

Adrien may try to flee with the Miraculous, but Gabriel doubted he would leave behind the girl who was Ladybug. Chivalry was one lesson he _had_ learned. He would not leave her in danger, for all that he would be wise to do so. 

Gabriel expected Adrien to come with demands. He expected Adrien to come with questions. Which were met and which were answered would depend much upon his tone and what exactly he asked of Hawk Moth. He may come with a challenge, trying to free Ladybug, but that would be more difficult than he imagined. Gabriel was not above using his knowledge of his own son against him.

He was also not above using his son’s ignorance against him.

Nooroo had talked readily enough, knowing that Gabriel was his master and that he had had no other choice. Gabriel had already known what to ask and had known enough of the answers already to know that Nooroo had answered fully and truthfully. It was unlikely that Adrien’s kwami was as forthcoming. They rarely volunteered more information than they had to.

Most kwami seemed to be under the impression that their Miraculous users were safer under that veil of ignorance.

Gabriel did not mind being one of the few who knew the truth. The lack of knowledge was a weakness. Adrien should know it was unacceptable, but he had clearly been too drawn to the romantic notions of what he was doing to consider the deeper implications. It was possible his kwami would choose to enlighten him, but even if Adrien did learn the truth—or even a portion of it—he would have little time to figure out how to best utilize it.

“The noose is around your neck, Adrien,” Gabriel murmured, “and for once I am thankful you have not learned enough to escape it.”

-|-

Mirror Image hadn’t made an appearance around the Bourgeois residence, as far as Adrien could tell, but he had never expected him to. Leaping back to the relative quiet of the rooftop, Adrien pulled out his staff to call Ladybug. A communication device, at least, couldn’t be copied.

Right?

Ladybug didn’t answer.

Adrien frowned but told himself there were plenty of reasons she might not answer—chiefly among them, she might not still be transformed. There could be plenty of reasons for that, ranging from a fight with Mirror Image to something suddenly coming up in her other life that needed to be tended to avoid disaster.

Except….

Except he had a feeling a disaster in her life outside of being Ladybug wasn’t to blame here.

Adrien swiped at the screen on his baton, and rather than calling Ladybug, it showed him a map of Paris. Almost immediately, that map zoomed in, spinning away from the city’s centre and pulling closer to the _Boulevards des Maréchaux_. The 11th arrondissement. Near the old Gambetta station? 

For the _Petite Ceinture_. 

The railway had been abandoned years ago. Adrien had never seen it himself except at a distance, but he’d learned of it in his history lessons of Paris before he’d gone to public school and he’d overheard some of his classmates speak of it. Not often, granted. But he was sure Alix had made some comment about how far she’d gone into the abandoned tunnels, those not open to the public, and hadn’t Nathanaël mentioned some artistry at some point?

Adrien stared at the blinking ladybug symbol on the map and then snapped his staff shut, protecting the screen before he extended his staff and used it to propel himself eastward. Ladybug wasn’t just following a lead or a hunch. To not have answered his call, she must be fighting Mirror Image now. And Mirror Image must have surprised her or she’d have called him.

No.

No, no, _no_. He wouldn’t let it happen. Ladybug was smart. She would see through whatever Mirror Image tried, and if he still managed to best her, even temporarily, then it would be because Adrien hadn’t been there to watch her back. 

Adrien raced across the rooftops, leaping and bounding and using his staff to propel himself forward farther, faster, anything to get to Ladybug as quickly as he could. His heart raced not from exertion but from fear. Terror. _He couldn’t lose her._ With Plagg’s power, it took a lot to tire him, but the thought of Ladybug suddenly being _gone_ ….

The last time he’d felt this way, he’d just seen her leap into the mouth of Tyrannosaurus rex. 

He’d been so grateful when she’d cranked open its mouth with her Lucky Charm, his legs had nearly given out. And she’d thought nothing of it, confident in her plan despite everything that could have gone wrong, and she’d thought he’d be satisfied to treat everything like normal with a simple fist bump?

No.

That wouldn’t have been nearly enough. He’d needed to hold her, to feel her warmth and the strong beat of her heart and hear her quiet breaths, to breathe in her scent as she finally hugged him back. He’d needed to reassure himself that she was still real, that she was still the Ladybug he knew. The Ladybug he loved. The girl he’d do anything for.

Adrien wasn’t sure how long it took him to arrive, landing with a spray of gravel by the abandoned tracks. A couple had yelped at his arrival and scampered away. He turned away from them; they were fine. Instead, he inspected the graffiti-coated tunnel entrance (some looked fresh; some parts which hadn’t been painted over were now kissed with moss), the surrounding fence the couple had just cleared (damaged enough in that one particular spot that it must be an easy access point), and the tracks in the gravel (grass at the edges, creeping in; one patch of gravel had been swept aside where a fire had burnt; a few places not yet overtaken by grass where the gravel had been ground into the dirt). He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. A clue, maybe. Some kind of confirmation that Ladybug’s fight had taken her here.

He found nothing. Adrien itched to move on anyway, to keep going, and checked his staff to confirm what his instincts were telling him. By her tracker, Ladybug was ahead of him, farther down the line, so he raced into the darkness. Some people carried torches; he didn’t need them. He could see easily without a flashlight or a cell phone. But he couldn’t see Ladybug.

He kept running.

He didn’t want to shout. He could hear nothing that foretold a fight ahead of him. All he could hear, beyond his pounding heart and quick breaths, was the intermittent roar from the world above, the crunch of gravel underfoot, the quiet dripping of water somewhere nearby, and the faint echo of scattering stones bouncing behind and ahead of him, pinging off the rails to announce his presence to anyone who listened for it. That alone would be enough to set Mirror Image on guard, if Adrien was running headlong into a trap, but yelling Ladybug’s name would take away any doubt that it was _him_ who was coming. 

If Mirror Image did have Ladybug, it would be as easy for him to track Adrien as it was for Adrien to track her. Ladybug would not willingly show him how to work her weapon, but a bit of fiddling would reveal its other uses soon enough.

Adrien slowed, stopped, and check his staff. The pinprick of light in the distance that signalled the end of the tunnel hadn’t gotten noticeably larger, but the tracker indicated that he’d gone past Ladybug. But _how_? He couldn’t have. Unless he’d missed an access tunnel of some sort? Frowning, Adrien retraced his steps, more carefully this time, until he stood where Ladybug should be.

The tunnel was empty, its walls smooth.

If Ladybug had been fighting, her tracker would have moved by now. It hadn’t. But Adrien knew of no way that her signal could be fixed like that, not unless she wasn’t moving, and she clearly wasn’t here. So where _was_ she? There wasn’t any way to imitate her signal, and their trackers were more accurate than any other GPS Adrien had ever used. 

Unless the signal was fixed because Ladybug wasn’t with her yo-yo.

Adrien swallowed but couldn’t discount the possibility. Just because he couldn’t see her yo-yo, it didn’t mean it wasn’t above his head. He’d assumed Mirror Image would keep her in the tunnels, out of sight, rather than where someone could raise an alarm or post to the Ladyblog. But the yo-yo, on its own, could be mistaken for one of the replicas sold with any Ladybug costume, at least until someone picked it up.

Adrien bristled, waiting for some hidden trap to spring, sure he had walked right into one, but nothing happened.

Perhaps the trap was aboveground after all.

Or maybe it was beneath his feet.

Adrien didn’t care if it was a trap. He couldn’t. This might be the only way to help Ladybug. If it meant being weakened, so be it. He had to save her. He couldn’t let Hawk Moth win, and he wasn’t about to be defeated by a villain who refused to show them his true face.

“Cataclysm!” Adrien cried as he reached out his right hand. Deadly power swirled about the ring. It was Plagg’s power, the power of destruction. It was probably older than the Miraculous itself, for all that the Miraculous acted as a catalyst for it. If he misstepped here, he risked offering that power to Hawk Moth. If Hawk Moth claimed it, Adrien would be responsible for seeing Paris under a new reign of terror.

He ran his hand along the ground at his feet anyway. It gave way in an explosion of dust and rock, and he tumbled into the limestone labyrinth below.


	4. Chapter 4

Marinette’s head was pounding when she woke, and her muscles felt leaden and stiff. The groan was out of her mouth before memory returned and she realized she should have stifled it. It was too late to feign unconsciousness, so she blinked open her eyes.

The light felt blinding, despite the fact that it came from a single flashlight set upright on the ground, illuminating the roughly hewn corridor all around them. Marinette sat on her knees on cold stone, leaning against the wall and breathing slightly musty air that seemed dead and stale. Marinette had never been here before, but she knew exactly where they were. Every Parisian would. Though there was nary a bone in sight, she was down in the old quarry. She was in the catacombs.

She was also, Marinette realized as she tried to move, bound by the wrists and ankles, tied behind her back with a cord strung between to keep her from wriggling too much.

Or straightening. 

She wasn’t gagged, which she found curious, but not as curious as the fact that she was still Ladybug. She still had her Miraculous. Even though, when she shifted, she could see an unfamiliar figure guarding this little niche in the tunnels—Mirror Image, no doubt, in a new form.

Surely he didn’t mean to take her to Hawk Moth directly?

And surely Hawk Moth didn’t have his headquarters _underground_?

Her yo-yo was missing, but that was the least of her worries at the moment. She would never have been able to use it right now anyway. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to walk if she weren’t tied up. She’d been out of the river long enough that her hair was damp but no longer wet, and her suit kept her warm enough despite the cooler air, but she had no idea what Mirror Image intended to do, no idea of Hawk Moth himself would be the next person she’d see, and absolutely no idea where her brave, silly cat of a partner was hiding.

Worse yet, he had no way of finding her. Not if her yo-yo was in the bottom of the Seine—or at least there until she untransformed. Would Tikki’s magic be able to pull it back to her across that distance? She’d never thought to ask.

She’d never thought she might end up in a situation like this.

“No questions, Ladybug?”

Marinette’s eyes flicked toward Mirror Image. His current form was that of a man, perhaps forty judging by the flecks of white in his brown hair that flashed as he strode past the torch to stand in front of her. He was dressed well but simply. It didn’t suit the catacombs, but no one would have been able to pick him of the crowd. Far from wet, his clothing wasn’t even noticeably wrinkled.

She swallowed. It was disconcerting, thinking that this man was the one who had masqueraded as Chat Noir and tried to drown her earlier. She felt the fool for not realizing the charade until it was too late. “I figured you would make your demands whether I asked to hear them or not.”

He smiled at her, but his brown eyes remained cold. “You are hardly in a position where it would suit me to make demands.”

“I still have my Miraculous.” Marinette wasn’t sure why she said it. It was an obvious fact, something Mirror Image already knew, but beneath it screamed the question _why_. She knew she’d been unconscious. Mirror Image could have taken her earrings at any time.

Yet he hadn’t.

His smile grew. “Yes. And I still have my bait.”

_Bait?_

Chat Noir.

Marinette’s eyes went wide and she started twisting in her bonds anew, but they were tied tightly—and seemed to grow tighter with each move she made. “This isn’t going to work,” she spat. Her words were filled with more conviction than she felt, but if Chat Noir hadn’t appeared yet….

_Stay away, kitty._ Chat Noir should be too smart to fall for a trap like this. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t put it past him to know it was a trap and charge in anyway. He was brave, ridiculously so, and he could be _so stupid_ when it came to his own safety.

…and that’s why she was worried.

Because she knew he would knowingly walk into danger if he thought he had a chance to save her.

_Please, please stay away._ She didn’t want to be rescued by him if he was going to take an unreasonable risk. And with the little they knew about Mirror Image, it was still an unreasonable risk. All Mirror Image had done so far was tie her up. He could still take her Miraculous at any time, but if he wanted to use her as bait, she still had some time to figure this out. Not long, likely. She had until Chat Noir sprang the trap or Mirror Image decided he wasn’t going to take the bait.

It would have to be time enough.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t even feel a particularly sharp rock that might be useful in beginning to saw away at the rope that bound her.

“Why not just take me straight to Hawk Moth?” Marinette asked. It would make more sense, wouldn’t it, to deliver her to Hawk Moth—if not just her Miraculous—and then _pretend_ to be her, just as he had pretended to be Chat Noir? Even if Hawk Moth was worried that someone might believe her when she claimed to be Ladybug and help her, it just seemed _wrong_ that he wouldn’t take advantage of having the Miraculous in his grasp.

“No need to be impatient.”

It wasn’t an answer. All it told her was that he was confident the trap would work—probably meaning that Hawk Moth was confident in it, too, or he’d never let Mirror Image get away with this. Villains who lost focus were punished; she’d seen it before. It had looked like a painful reminder that Hawk Moth was really the one pulling the strings. 

Still, there was a chance Hawk Moth was wary of bringing this trap directly to his doorstep. They still didn’t know who he was, and the possibility that Chat Noir would free her must be strong enough that he would not want to face them both at once. Mirror Image might be good at trickery, but she doubted he was as good at offense. 

But just taking her Miraculous wouldn’t pose the same threat.

Of course, Mirror Image wouldn’t be able to lure Chat Noir into a trap unless he had her specifically, transformed as she was, or Chat Noir would never believe he had the real Ladybug. But she wasn’t convinced it was worth the risk when Mirror Image could pull something similar with Chat Noir as he had with her.

The failsafe was supposed to prevent that, but when Mirror Image hadn’t responded to her suggestive tone, she’d taken that as a sign that he _was_ her real partner. And maybe, after Copycat, that was exactly what Hawk Moth had instructed him to do if the situation arose. She shouldn’t have been so foolish as to assume he’d fall for the same trick twice. 

This was her fault.

She’d let Mirror Image fool her.

She should know Chat Noir better than that. He was her partner. She trusted him with her life.

And when he’d come to her with what had seemed like a helpful tip about one of the most frustrating villains to pin down in a while, she’d assumed some of that frustration and stress had leaked into his actions, tempered his flirting and puns and forced him to focus.

She should have realized Chat Noir would never completely abandon his puns. There had only been, what, one in that entire conversation? It hadn’t even been a very original one. She should have seen it.

But she hadn’t.

And now her own blindness, her own stupidity, was endangering not just herself and her partner but all of Paris.

_I’m sorry, kitty. I failed you._

Mirror Image had left her little alcove and resumed ignoring her, watching to see if they would get company from either side of the corridor. He was expecting Chat Noir. She doubted any other soul would be unfortunate enough to wander through this part of the catacombs at just the wrong moment; they were large enough that that was unlikely to happen, and she had no idea how deep into them Mirror Image had taken her.

Marinette held her breath and strained her ears for a moment, but she couldn’t make out the scuffling sounds of someone coming towards them.

Not yet, at least.

She wouldn’t gain anything if she ended her transformation now; she’d only give Hawk Moth reason to hunt her as Marinette, too, and she wanted to avoid that if at all possible. She wouldn’t be able to revert back and transform again without Mirror Image noticing, either, even if that did hold the possibility of restoring her yo-yo. Then again, with its unbreakable string—at least when not up against a villain with the power to counteract that—that might only serve to give Mirror Image something better with which to bind her. It might be lucky that she’d lost it in the river.

But if she had, how was Mirror Image expecting Chat Noir to find her? Surely he hadn’t done something like leave a public ransom on the Ladyblog? Paris would be in an uproar. He’d make himself too many enemies, even if he could blend into the crowd and become anyone he wished. It wouldn’t pay for him to draw attention to himself this time.

Which meant her yo-yo might _not_ be at the bottom of the river. Which meant—

A sharp _crack_ carried down the tunnel, almost immediately overwhelmed by booming reverberations of falling rock. The cave-in was near enough to carry dust with it, and a cool wind shot down the corridor, spinning that dust past them and farther in. She coughed and sneezed and kept twisting her hands, trying to free at least one. 

It was already too late, of course. She’d run out of time. She knew that, but she had to keep trying anyway. She had no other choice. Her silly partner had come to spring the trap.

-|-

The plan was in motion.

Gabriel smiled, adjusting his grip on the cane. He still stood overlooking Paris, but he was gleaning what he could from his connection through the akuma. Mirror Image had fooled Ladybug and taken her captive. While she would not believe Chat Noir would mean her harm, the public would not be so easily convinced. And Ladybug would have reason to doubt him yet.

True, the people of Paris would be quick to forgive their hero and blame the latest villain attacking Paris. Mirror Image had necessarily exposed himself to draw the eye of Ladybug and Chat Noir, and the people would be aware another villain was preying upon their city. But that wouldn’t stop them from looking upon their heroes with suspicion when they believed they had cause.

It didn’t matter to Gabriel how Adrien learned of Ladybug’s capture. He had allowed Mirror Image freedom with the more minor details, within reason, and Mirror Image had yet to disappoint him. All that mattered to Gabriel was that Adrien found Ladybug and made the decision Gabriel knew his son would make: the choice to take her Miraculous.

It was that treacherous act which mattered most, the one upon which his entire plan hinged.

Adrien—Chat Noir—would take Ladybug’s Miraculous. Once she knew what he was willing to do, she would not be able to look at him the same way. Chat Noir would lose her trust. Even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to salvage their partnership.

It didn’t matter if Mirror Image was able to take Chat Noir’s Miraculous at the end of their battle, not really. Gabriel would be able to fetch it easily enough himself. Chat Noir could not defend Paris alone. This situation would prove that to him. And even if Adrien did not grow to hate the Miraculous he held, his guilt over his actions—once taken—would eat away at him. 

An inactive Miraculous was simple to remove, and Adrien’s moment of weakness would come.

And when it did, Gabriel would have the power he needed.

-|-

Adrien didn’t have more cheese. It was a funny thing to think of now, too late, when he was lying on cold stone, but it was the truth. He’d fed Plagg the last of his camembert on the rooftop. That meant he didn’t have much time, either.

But he never had had much time to begin with, since Ladybug had been captured. Certainly not enough time to stop to purchase a wheel or even a wedge of cheese. Not when she was in danger.

The landing had been rough, the fall greater than he’d anticipated, and it was probably only thanks to Plagg and the magic within his suit that he had survived. He’d had worse since becoming Chat Noir, but he felt like someone had dropped him off a five storey building. (It had happened. He had also been flung off higher buildings, courtesy of the wonderful lady he was going to save. It went with the territory.) 

Adrien blinked for a moment, still trying to orient himself, and then climbed to his feet. He spotted the cord of Ladybug’s yo-yo stretched out in front of him, purposely pointing farther down the tunnel, and he picked it up and followed it back until he held everything in his hands. With a bit of difficulty, he wrapped it around his waist, making sure it wouldn’t catch on his tail or hinder his ability to grab his own weapon. He would fight with Ladybug’s yo-yo if he had to, but he’d rather return her weapon and fight alongside her when it came to that.

Adrien walked in the direction he’d been pointed. The destruction he left behind him ruled out all hope of sneaking up and assessing the situation before making his move. Perhaps he had been reckless; perhaps he should have entered another way and run along the tunnels, but even with the advantage of his night vision, he didn’t know the catacombs well by any stretch of the imagination. 

He thought he was just lucky that this portion was tall enough to stand in comfortably. It was still close quarters for a fight, but he was good at close combat.

And it might not come to fighting anyway.

Adrien strode along with more confidence than he felt, and it wasn’t long until he spotted the warm light of a flashlight. His ring beeped once as he hovered just beyond the light’s edge, announcing his presence. He tried—unsuccessfully—to swallow down his nervousness before walking up. 

He could see the man who must be Mirror Image, true form or not, smirking at the opposite side of the arc of light. He’d expected Adrien to come. But where was—?

“Chat, just leave me and run!”

Ladybug.

He could only afford to glance at her, seeing that she was thoroughly trussed up but apparently unharmed, before returning his attention to Mirror Image. The last thing he felt like doing was smiling, but he did it anyway. Easily. Without it even looking feral.

His modelling skills came in handy.

“I thought about what you said,” he began. Ladybug squeaked, and it was hard not to turn to look at her again, hard not to reassure her—even nonverbally—that he had a plan.

A terrible plan, but still a plan.

“And what do you value, Chat Noir?” The smile Mirror Image wore was insufferably smug. He thought he knew exactly what was going to happen.

Adrien had to try to use that and hope Hawk Moth wouldn’t interfere.

Adrien shrugged. “I have a bit of a soft spot for her,” he admitted. He kept his tone nonchalant, his raging emotions locked away so tightly they couldn’t leak through. “But like I was saying, I thought about what you said. What Hawk Moth said, right?” He didn’t wait for Mirror Image to confirm that. “He wants Ladybug’s Miraculous—and mine, even if hers is more valuable.” 

“What are you _doing_?” Ladybug hissed. “Get out of here! This is a trap!”

Adrien did look at her then. “Oh, Ladybug,” he said in a tone more aloof and condescending than he’d ever used before, “this isn’t a trap. This is a prearranged meeting. You’re just the way that Mirror Image was able to get a message to me.”

His words stunned her to silence, and he turned away from her. Her betrayed expression was breaking his heart. “I’ll get it for you,” he said to Mirror Image, “and I’ll sweeten the pot if Hawk Moth agrees not to hunt down her or anyone close to her.”

“Because you have a soft spot for her.” The words were spoken with just enough skepticism that Adrien wasn’t sure his bluff was working.

“She’s saved my skin a few times. I still owe her.”

“Honour has no place alongside treachery.”

“Everyone has their own code,” Adrien countered as his ring beeped a second warning. He had three minutes left.

He still stood a good three feet from Mirror Image, and even looking the man up and down, he had no idea where the akuma was hiding. Mirror Image could have tricked Ladybug in any number of ways, from taking the form of an innocent and pretending danger to masquerading as Chat Noir himself. But this was the third time Adrien had seen a persona of Mirror Image in person—four if you count the brief moment as Alec Cataldi before he’d shifted in front of them at KIDZ+ and the chase had begun, but three times up close—and he couldn’t spot anything consistent.

No piece of clothing consistent across all personas. No pin or other accessory, like the Horrificator or Animan. Not unless Ladybug was right and all they could see was a different aura Mirror Image depicted depending on whoever he became; if that were the case, there wouldn’t need to be consistency if he never changed at his heart. They’d need to get him to revert back to whoever he was to begin their guessing game. 

But if he _was_ like Animan, only with people’s forms instead of those of animals, then Mirror Image himself would be warping with every transformation in order to gain someone’s strength or agility or whatever other characteristics necessary to properly fill their shoes. And if that was true, there should be something consistent that was carried through each transformation, just as Ladybug had said.

Mirror Image nodded once. “Then know this: she will not be harmed if she no longer wears a mask and no longer acts against us.”

Adrien swallowed; he had seen no sign that Hawk Moth had communicated with Mirror Image, meaning those terms had been decided earlier. Hawk Moth was anticipating him.

Was he anticipating the trap, too?

Adrien nodded and spun on his heels, turning toward Ladybug. She seemed to shrink into the wall as he slowly approached. Her mouth opened, just slightly, and he heard her desperate question escape: “What are you doing, kitty?”

He was saving her.

Whether she wanted saving or not.

Adrien stopped in front of her and looked down, not saying anything. He didn’t trust himself to speak. His shadow fell across her face, and she used the reprieve from the light—and Mirror Image’s sharp gaze—to look up at him with wide eyes. He was used to seeing trust in them. Now, he saw questions. He saw confusion. And he saw a spark of fear that she couldn’t quite squash.

Ladybug mouthed another question. _Why?_ Not _what_. She’d realized _what_ by now. But she didn’t understand why, and he couldn’t explain it to her.

He’d long wanted to know her true identity. He’d dreamed up countless scenarios of how he might find out, what might change her mind despite the warning she’d surely received from her kwami as he had from Plagg. (Plagg, while saying he shouldn’t tell anyone, hadn’t exactly discouraged Adrien when it came to discovering Ladybug’s identity—and Adrien hoped that meant she was the one exception to the rule.) Still, he had always hoped that she would decide to tell him the truth.

He’d acknowledged that the discovery might come by accident—a lost battle with the clock, an unknowingly dropped hint, a curious twist of circumstance, even an akuma victim with a knack for uncovering secrets. 

He had never imagined that he would _force_ Ladybug to reveal her secret.

He dropped to a crouch and smiled, but he knew this wasn’t a friendly smile. The nonchalance of earlier had vanished. _This_ was the feral smile, the one he should have turned on Mirror Image. Instead, he was baring his teeth at Ladybug.

“I always wondered who was hiding beneath your mask.” He let his voice take a teasing tone, but the undercurrent of danger would be clear.

Ladybug’s lips tightened.

She wouldn’t forgive him for this—not easily, if ever. He was about to lose all the trust she’d ever given him. She was still trying to give him the benefit of the doubt now, because he _had_ been her partner for so long, but she couldn’t help but feel betrayed. He could see it in her expression—the defiant set of her jaw, the slight frown in her furrowed brow, the narrowing of her eyes that just dared him to act. 

It was harder than he’d imagined to reach up to her first ear, lightly gripping the front of her earring and the back. She didn’t fight him. It would be futile in the end; tied up as she was, he could easily overpower her. 

He unfastened the first earring, cradling it in his hand as he turned her head to reach the second one. “I thought you were my partner,” she said quietly. She had tried to keep her voice neutral, but he could hear the hurt in it, and she couldn’t hide her tears. 

He pulled the back off the second earring and gently tugged it free of her ear. As he did so, the yo-yo melted from his waist and her transformation dissolved. Red swirled away. It spun into the Miraculous, and he held a pair of spotted earrings. There was no sign of Ladybug’s kwami, Tikki.

But the flash of red and wane yellow light from behind him did show him someone else, someone he recognized but somehow had never expected to see: Marinette Dupain-Cheng.


	5. Chapter 5

Marinette.

Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. Ladybug was _Marinette_?

Marinette was the girl who sat behind him in class. Marinette was the girl with an eye for style and ingenious flair for fashion that had even impressed his father.

And Marinette was the girl who hardly said two words to him in a typical _week_ , let alone a typical day.

“Hawk Moth told me you would come around,” Mirror Image drawled. His shoes scuffed on the stone as he walked up behind Adrien. “I will admit I had my doubts.”

Adrien clenched Ladybug’s Miraculous— _Marinette’s_ Miraculous—in his left hand and rose, turning back to Mirror Image. He couldn’t falter now. It was too late to go back. He had to…he had….

He had to come to terms with the fact that _Ladybug_ was _Marinette_ , and she _hated_ him for what he’d just done.

And he had to keep going regardless.

“I think my partnership with Ladybug is over.” Somehow, he managed to make those words light, though the truth of them tore at his heart. His eyes were burning, threatening to tear, and his throat tightened. He forced his next words out, needing all of his acting skills to keep his true emotions off his face and out of his voice. “Isn’t that right, my lady?” Vincent’s prompts were more along the lines of _give me the smile when Mama brings in the spaghetti_ and not _show me how your soul is crushed after you have betrayed your greatest love_ , but he was still able to separate what he really felt from what he needed to portray. 

Ladybug—no, _Marinette_ —didn’t answer.

“I’m going to need a new partner,” Adrien continued. He eased open his left zipper and slipped the stolen Miraculous into his pocket before closing it again. He would have to guard that side; he remembered well how easily Ladybug had hooked Copycat and allowed him to open that very pocket to reveal the newspaper clipping hidden inside.

Hidden.

Inside a pocket.

Mirror Image had pockets.

He couldn’t look. Not now. Not even a glance. He mustn’t give away the game. With his transformation running out, he really _would_ be handing Hawk Moth both Miraculous through Mirror Image. Adrien didn’t fancy his chances in a fight when he was up against a shapeshifter. He was skilled, but without being able to predict his opponent or use his stature or strength or anything else against him….

“Will you now?” Mirror Image sounded amused. It made Adrien’s skin crawl. “Our deal, if you recall, was dependent upon my master receiving the Miraculous.”

Another beep.

Two minutes.

Could he pull this off in two minutes?

“It was. But I’m offering more than just Ladybug’s Miraculous. I’m offering mine. I want to work with Hawk Moth.” This was the gamble, the move that might show his hand. Adrien had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. “I hold the power of destruction. I could lay this city to waste.”

Mirror Image blinked, and Adrien recognized the look he wore; Hawk Moth was relaying his orders. He’d either bitten or called Adrien’s bluff.

There was more than one way to skin a cat, and Adrien did not fancy being on the receiving end of whatever Hawk Moth had concocted if he had anticipated this feint.

A few precious seconds slipped by before Mirror Image spoke. “You could,” Mirror Image agreed cautiously, “but why change your spots? You always fight with such…enthusiasm.”

“Enthusiasm for the fight itself.” He shrugged. “I mean, sure, when Hawk Moth has Ladybug’s Miraculous, I’d use up all nine lives if I tried to resist him.” Nine lives he didn’t have. He’d told Ladybug as much before, and it was the only reassurance he could give her now that he didn’t mean any of this. “Without Ladybug, I’d be at a disadvantage. I’d lose. And I don’t like to lose.” He idly pulled his staff out and extended it so that he could comfortably lean on it, treating it rather like a cane as he had when they’d gone up against RogerCop. “I’ve already lost enough.” There was more truth to that than anyone else here knew, even Marinette. “I want to win.” Winning wouldn’t bring back what he had lost, but if he won this, he could keep from losing anything—anyone—else dear to him.

“You want power?”

“I want control. I don’t want to be dictated by Hawk Moth’s whims. I want to be his partner, not his lackey. This city isn’t full of happy memories for me.” Not entirely true, but not exactly a lie, either. He’d been many places with his mother in the past, but this year had allowed him to make some of his happiest memories since she’d—

“Prove your loyalty.” Mirror Image hadn’t waited for a prompt from Hawk Moth. “Go on. Prove to me that you aren’t just twisting your words into what you think I want to hear. Prove your unfailing faithfulness to my master. _Prove it_.”

The violent torrent of words was spat with such a force that Adrien had taken a step backward before realizing it. Mirror Image wasn’t being spurred on by Hawk Moth, not now. This anger…. This was what had allowed him to be akumatized in the first place. This was the opening Hawk Moth had taken.

“What more proof do you need?” The broken demand came from Marinette, delivered with more anger than Adrien had expected. “He stole my Miraculous. He stole _Tikki_. And he’s robbed Paris of _both_ its superheroes.” Her eyes swivelled to Adrien, her raw emotions—anger, hurt, betrayal—flaring to the surface. It made Adrien’s blood run cold. People in that sort of mood were just the sort for Hawk Moth to prey upon in the first place. 

Had that been his plan all along? To pit Adrien against Ladybug? Or at least the girl who had been Ladybug? Hawk Moth had never sent out more than one akuma at once—Ladybug had theorized that that was one of the limits of his power—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t.

And it didn’t mean he wouldn’t unleash one the moment Adrien defeated Mirror Image—if he even could without Ladybug. He certainly couldn’t purify the akuma without her.

“He’s thrown in his lot with Hawk Moth as surely as you have,” Marinette spat as his ring beeped once more. “He’s made _that_ clear. He doesn’t deserve to hold his Miraculous. Not if he’s going to use it for evil instead of to fight evil.” 

Marinette was still glaring daggers at him, but Adrien could see from the corner of his eye that Mirror Image was focused on her. He didn’t have time to think; he just acted, letting instinct and skill guide him as he split his staff and attacked Mirror Image. Mirror Image took a fraction too long to react, and one half of Adrien’s staff hit him in the temple as the second collided with the flashlight, breaking it and drenching the corridor in darkness. A split second later, Adrien was on top of him and they crashed to the ground. His searching right hand closed around stiff crumpled paper in the breast pocket of Mirror Image’s shirt.

Not paper, Adrien realized as his momentum carried him over into a somersault and back to his feet. A photograph.

He didn’t have time to think on it. Mirror Image was still disoriented, and Adrien needed to use the darkness to his advantage while he still had the ability to see in it. Leaving his split staff where the pieces had fallen, he skirted around Mirror Image and pulled out Ladybug’s Miraculous. Marinette’s earrings.

She tried to twist around and bite him when he grabbed her head, but she stopped fighting when she realized he was returning her Miraculous. A kwami appeared on her shoulder as he slipped in her second earring, and she immediately called to be transformed. The flash of red worked against her this time as much as it helped, as it gave off enough light that Mirror Image was able to stagger to his feet and run at them.

Adrien swiped at Ladybug’s bindings with his claws (they were still sharp, even if he had already used Cataclysm) but had to pull her out of Mirror Image’s path and saw at the ropes a bit more before he could get her free. All he managed was the rope binding her wrists and the length keeping those close to her ankles. He didn’t have time to free her feet before his own transformation wore off in a crackle of green and Plagg landed on his shoulder.

She hadn’t seen him—he’d been behind her—but he had little doubt that Mirror Image _had_ , which meant Hawk Moth knew both of their identities. At the very least, he knew Adrien’s identity and Marinette’s face, as there was a chance he wouldn’t know the baker’s daughter. Still, Adrien couldn’t worry about that now. Ladybug needed to stop Mirror Image. 

And whether she liked it or not, he needed to pick her up if he was going to move her in time. She squawked in surprise when he lifted her into his arms, but they couldn’t stay where Mirror Image had last seen them.

“You lost your powers, Chat Noir,” Mirror Image taunted, “but I still possess mine. And that means I can possess _yours_.”

No, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not after all this.

“The akuma has to be hiding in this photograph,” Adrien hissed into Ladybug’s ear. It was still crumpled in his right hand. “I can rip it whenever you’re ready.”

“I can’t see anything,” Ladybug snapped. Yes, she was still angry with him, but it was more than that. Her voice was touched with fear and confusion and hurt. But as uneasy as it made him, he deserved her anger. He’d rushed in without thinking, focusing only on rescuing her before Hawk Moth decided he wouldn’t cooperate. Chances were, she’d had a brilliant plan and he’d just bungled it. And even if he hadn’t, he’d taken a huge risk—and the way things were going, he wasn’t sure it was going to pay off. 

“And,” Ladybug continued, “you’re in no position to guide me. Besides, I can’t even….” She didn’t finish, but he felt her shift, trying to get at her feet to free them. The change in weight made him stumble backward, but he managed to adjust in time to keep from falling. Trying desperately not to collide with the walls—the darkness could truly be disorienting—he turned to head deeper into the tunnels. His left foot caught on rough stone and he nearly pitched them both forward, barely managing to regain his balance as she called out, “Lucky Charm!”

The yo-yo hit the ceiling with a thwack, but from Ladybug’s hiss of annoyance, even if she had received something—and he was sure she had—she didn’t know what to do with it. Adrien couldn’t tell what it was, although he could still hear Mirror Image coming after him. The man wasn’t in a hurry. He was walking, content to chase them in the dark—in which he could see perfectly fine as Chat Noir. Adrien’s movements must seem a snail’s pace to him, but his amusement was clear. The laughter sent shivers up Adrien’s spine. It just sounded so _wrong_.

Adrien was the mouse. He and Ladybug were _both_ mice. He thought he’d managed to outsmart Hawk Moth, to play the cat after all, but he was the mouse. It would be easy enough to stop Mirror Image in his tracks now, to put Hawk Moth’s plans on hold, but without Ladybug able to see to catch the akuma to purify it….

Maybe Marinette was right. Maybe he didn’t deserve his Miraculous. Not because of how he’d chosen to use it but because of the mistakes he’d made _while_ using it.

“Is it a flashlight?” he asked hopefully when Ladybug didn’t tell him anything about her Lucky Charm.

“It’s not a flashlight, matches, _or_ a lighter. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with it.” There was a pause. “I’m not even sure what it is. It’s not anything sharp like a knife, either, or something we can use to tie up Mirror Image until I can purify the akuma. It’s just…something small and metal.” Another pause, then a murmured, “I should have never let myself get into this situation.”

“It’s not your fault,” Adrien insisted immediately. He’d heard the self-loathing in her voice, her annoyance and frustration with the situation. He wasn’t the only one she was angry with; she was angry with herself, too.

“I flew right into the spider’s web,” Ladybug muttered. “It’s my fault for getting caught, for taking too long to realize that he wasn’t you. Although after that stunt you pulled back there…. I’m not sure I know you after all. Are you certain this is worth the cost?”

Adrien flinched, but he couldn’t answer her now. There wasn’t time to dwell on it. He whispered a warning as another low chuckle floated down the tunnel. Adrien carefully placed Ladybug on the ground, keeping her tight to the wall and keeping one hand on her shoulder so she knew where he was. “See if you can free your feet. May I see your Lucky Charm?”

Ladybug passed it to him without a word and he heard her begin to pick at the knot in the rope while he turned the object over in his hand. She was right: it was small—a little larger than two palm widths long and about an inch wide—and it did feel like metal. Actually, what it felt like was a thick wire handle, looped at the end and kinked in the middle and attached to a small cup at the top. 

No. Not just a handle. Attached, yes, but one end of the wire part extended into the cup and jutted down, and inside—

“It’s a flint striker,” Adrien realized. He readjusted his grip and squeezed the handle. Nothing. He tried again, pushing harder and moving faster. This time, he got a spark. It was short-lived, petering out before it hit the ground, but the darkness seemed denser after its death.

“What are we supposed to do with _that_? Even once I get this _off_ ….” Ladybug grunted as she said the last word, but there was a faint, telltale scrape of rope moving on rope as she managed to loosen the knot. She was making progress. “Even once it’s off, I doubt it’ll light very easily.”

“I have a handkerchief in my pocket. Clean. It had some camembert in it, that’s all, and it’s starting to fray around the bite marks.” It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing he had that might help.

“ _Bite_ —?” Ladybug broke off. “Your kwami?”

Plagg, who was still on Adrien’s shoulder, groaned in response.

“He’ll get into anything to get his camembert. I know I should have gotten more, but when I found out you were in trouble, I didn’t think.”

“You never think,” Ladybug muttered, but Adrien could tell that she didn’t mean that. There was a…hesitation, maybe, that betrayed the fact that she wasn’t convinced she knew him well enough to make assumptions. Not anymore.

Adrien put down the Lucky Charm, fraying handkerchief (Plagg hadn’t even left crumbs behind to eat now, unfortunately), and the photograph in which the akuma was hiding. Frankly, he was lucky Mirror Image hadn’t just decided to tackle him to retrieve it. The darkness must have given him confidence, to let them have it for so long without a fight. “I’ll buy you some time.” He wasn’t sure how much he could help, but he needed to do something. He owed it to Ladybug.

And he owed it to Paris, which would pay the price of his failure if this went wrong.

“Take care of Plagg for me,” Adrien added, setting his kwami down beside her. He didn’t know how easily Plagg could get hurt and didn’t want to find out right now.

“What?” Even as he started running, he could hear the shock in Ladybug’s voice. “You can’t just—! You aren’t Chat Noir right now! You could get _hurt_!”

Adrien knew that, but it was a risk he had to take. And it was a risk he was willing to take, even if the concern in Ladybug’s voice was nearly enough to make him falter. Mirror Image had allowed them to retreat, albeit not far, but he wouldn’t—shouldn’t—be expecting an attack when he thought he was the one with all the advantages.

Ladybug was the one with the ability to cleanse the akuma.

Adrien was just a boy who would do anything for her.

No matter the risks.

-|-

Marinette stared in the direction of the receding footsteps even as her fingers worked out the knot millimetre by millimetre. Looking didn’t help her in the slightest. It was pitch black down here; even the spark from the flint striker hadn’t been enough to reveal more than Chat Noir’s hand—although hadn’t she seen his ring before? She couldn’t remember for certain and didn’t have time to dwell on it, not now. There were far too many important things to worry about. But the way he’d looked at her when she’d been revealed as Marinette….

He’d been shocked.

Shocked because she wasn’t who he’d thought or shocked because he recognized her from somewhere?

Marinette shook her head and went back to the knot. She was close. She knew she was close. It had taken a bit of guesswork, but she was fairly confident in the type of knot Mirror Image had used. (Fashion was not to thank this time; after Antibug had gotten the jump on Chat Noir, Alya had decided that she and Marinette needed to know how to do—and undo—anything Chloé (or a supervillain) might cook up for them or anyone else in the future. Marinette had wisely decided not to argue.)

Her earrings beeped once.

From somewhere near her ankle, Chat Noir’s kwami let out a pitiful mewling sound.

Marinette bit her lip but kept working at the knot. She would do what she could to help him, to help Chat Noir, but she’d rather stop Mirror Image before he had a chance to overpower Chat Noir—whoever he was when he wasn’t transformed—and make off with his Miraculous. She suspected it would be of limited use without Plagg, but she had never asked Tikki exactly how they were bound with the Miraculous, never asked if another kwami would be able to use it as a catalyst for the transformation….

Her earrings beeped a second time. She was taking too long, but rushing wasn’t going to make it go any faster. Marinette kept working methodically, trying to think things through.

Chat Noir had said that the Lucky Charm was a flint striker. That, at least, made sense; she needed the light. He’d left her a fraying handkerchief in the hopes that she could get it lit, but she doubted the cloth would catch much easier than the rope. Short of pulling some of her hair out, the best thing she had that she could hope to light was….

The rope finally loosened in Marinette’s fingers, and she pulled it off, but she wasn’t happy. She would certainly need luck for this to work. And Chat Noir…. She could still hear the scuffling and grunts and cries carrying along the tunnels. He was lucky he was able to drag the fight on as long as he was, considering he was the one at a disadvantage.

It was a thoroughly admirable, foolhardy move that she would expect of her partner. There was comfort in that, the silly cat acting like himself, all bravery and skill and recklessly good intentions. Not like—

No.

She had to focus.

Marinette hiked the coiled rope up to her left shoulder, picked up Plagg and set him beside it, and then knelt to arrange the photograph on top of the handkerchief. She held the flint striker in her right hand, but both hands trembled slightly as they hovered above the photograph. She had one shot at this. It would be a nightmare if this akuma got away and managed to multiply. If this didn’t work, if she was wrong or the spark didn’t catch, she would fail her partner and fail Paris. Again.

“Wish me luck,” Marinette murmured, and then she tore the photograph to pieces and squeezed the striker, sending an arcing spark toward her tinder as the akuma fluttered away.

-|-

Gabriel knew the instant the connection had been broken, felt it shatter with the finality of a broken mirror. He had gleaned enough to know the situation. Mirror Image had holed up in the catacombs with Ladybug, who had turned out to be none other than the young lady who had won his fashion design contest some time ago. Chat Noir had taken the bait, as Gabriel had known he would. Gabriel had expected Adrien might try to bargain, though he had not anticipated that he would go so far as to offer to work in league with Hawk Moth himself.

Gabriel had recognized the ruse for what it was, of course. Adrien was his son. But he had still been intrigued. How much was Adrien willing to forsake for the one he loved? Gabriel knew how far he had gone, and if his son really was willing to give up everything else for Ladybug….

He had cautioned Mirror Image but allowed him to continue the conversation. That had been a mistake. Whether or not it had been intentional, Adrien had provoked Mirror Image, calling into question the idea of loyalty, and Mirror Image had become irrational. 

Gabriel had bet upon a pawn, and his pawn had failed him.

He had maintained enough lucidity to mark Gabriel’s orders that Chat Noir—Adrien Agreste—not be badly harmed, but he had lost this fight. He had allowed it to slip from his fingers. He had gained some useful information—that Ladybug was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, information that was only truly valuable because Gabriel knew enough to recognize her—but he had failed.

Gabriel felt the backlash as Ladybug’s yo-yo pulled the dark magic from the butterfly, felt the magic seep away. He threw his cane across the room in frustration, startling the butterflies which had remained in the chamber. Nooroo’s magic would come back to him, but it would take time. If he did not allow Nooroo time as well to feed and gain enough energy to maintain the next transformation, he risked relying upon a villain like Antibug whose powers could vanish altogether if taxed. 

Because of Mirror Image, Gabriel had lost to Ladybug and Chat Noir _again_.

Gabriel took a deep breath, composed himself, and allowed his wings to fall. He would see that Nooroo was ready for the next fight, but perhaps it was finally time to stop relying upon others to fight his battles. He still had the advantage: he knew more about his enemies than they did about him. 

He had lost the battle.

He had not lost the war.

And he knew how far he would go for the woman he loved: as far as was necessary.

_He would never give up_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this chapter, folks! Life has been a bit busy. Thanks for being patient with me, and thanks to everyone who's ever taken the time to leave a comment on this story; I can't tell you how much I value that.

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief after she bid the purified butterfly farewell, grateful she’d been able to see it in the flickering light and that she’d been quick enough to catch it. She secured her yo-yo as her earrings beeped a third time, warning her that she was running out of time. Two minutes left.

Not that she really needed to hide from Chat Noir now that he knew her identity.

Marinette swallowed down the sourness that rose in her throat and knelt to hold the fraying end of the rope to the flame before her little fire went out. She had meant to let its light guide her down the tunnel, but she hesitated; Chat Noir was not transformed. He had betrayed her trust, but that didn’t mean she had to betray his. 

No. She wasn’t being fair to him. He’d had a plan. It hadn’t gone off without a hitch, but it’s not like hers always did, either. He had taken her Miraculous for show, revealed her identity—despite the danger; his kwami must have warned him!—not just to himself but also to Mirror Image, to _Hawk Moth_ , and—

Marinette sucked in a breath and released it slowly through her teeth. He’d used Cataclysm to break into the catacombs; he wouldn’t have been able to do so to free her from her bindings, and it was her fault for falling for Mirror Image’s ploy in the first place. Still, she knew how sharp his claws were; even without Cataclysm, he could have broken her free. He almost had afterwards. Why couldn’t he have just done that instead of taking her Miraculous? If he’d done that, returned her yo-yo, she could have picked up the fight while he retreated until he could join her again—

Except he hadn’t had cheese, and Mirror Image could have just taken Chat Noir’s form again and kicked out the light, leaving them in the dark. And she couldn’t fight in the dark.

And if Chat Noir had freed her then, there was no guarantee they would have been able to secure the photograph. Mirror Image would have either gotten the better of them, possibly learning both their identities anyway, or he’d have gotten away without them being any wiser when it came to tracking him. 

But still.

They could have tried.

She wasn’t sure she liked how much Chat Noir had been willing to risk, how much he had been willing to give up. And even though she knew he had been acting, it hadn’t _felt_ like he’d been acting. She’d tried to trust him, she really had, and then he’d taken her Miraculous and she hadn’t been sure, anymore, whether she could. Her confidence had fled, her confidence in herself and in him, and she wasn’t…she wasn’t….

She had exaggerated her emotions when she’d accused Chat Noir of using her Miraculous for evil, but she hadn’t…. She hadn’t needed to exaggerate them as much as she should have, considering how long Chat Noir had been her partner. 

She couldn’t discuss this with him in front of Mirror Image. The poor man would have no idea what had happened, no idea what had transpired or who she really was. She would have to let the situation be until they could see him off safely.

Marinette threw the Lucky Charm upward, calling out the words that would see it reverse the physical damage that had been done by them all since Hawk Moth had released the akuma. She wished the emotional damage could be repaired so easily. “Miraculous—”

“ _No_!”

“—Ladybug!”

“Don’t,” Chat Noir finished, too late, as the flame went out and the rope vanished from her hands in a sweep of red. She heard him running toward her, leaving Mirror Image behind, but he stopped a fair distance from her. “The flashlight will be gone, too, and the hole I made to get in here.”

Marinette cursed herself for not thinking this through. She liked to examine the situation before she acted; to make a mistake like this…. “Check on Mirror Image, or whoever he is now,” she said. “I’ll figure something out.”

Marinette knelt and found the photograph, whole and as good as new, along with the unburned handkerchief. It was still empty, of course. Plagg’s claws dug into her shoulder as she moved, but he didn’t say anything to her. The only sound to escape was another pitiful mew.

“Plagg,” she asked as an idea occurred to her, “does it have to be _camembert_ you eat to get your energy back up? Tikki eats chocolate chip cookies, and I have some in my purse. I’d just need to transform back for a moment to get them.”

Her only response was another moan.

Well, she needed to feed Tikki anyway if she hoped to keep her secret from the one who had been Mirror Image. “Spots off, Tikki.” She could make this quick. Cookies might not be ideal, but anything was better than nothing, right?

Her costume vanished, and Marinette felt Tikki land on her other shoulder. “Marinette—”

“He needs some food, Tikki, and I have enough left for you.” Marinette found and opened her purse clasp before pulling out Tikki’s stash of cookies. She took out a cookie for Tikki, passing it to the exhausted kwami before fishing out another for Plagg. She picked him up with her free hand and placed the cookie next to him. 

She felt Tikki land on her hand; the kwami had already polished off her own treat. Plagg’s cookie moved, and Marinette heard Tikki say, “It’ll have to do, Plagg. You know it will. And cookies are better than what you had in Tikal.”

There must have been a story behind that—Marinette had never heard of Tikal—but whatever it was, now was not the time to ask. Tikki coaxed Plagg to eat, feasting a bit more herself in the meantime as Marinette passed them two more cookies, and finally Chat Noir’s kwami seemed more energetic than before.

“Thank you. The cookies were delicious,” Tikki prompted.

“The cookies were food,” corrected Plagg. There was a pause. “Thank you.”

Marinette found herself smiling a bit at their exchange. “Will you be able to transform Chat Noir?” she asked.

“Of course he will, Marinette,” Tikki answered. “Just as I would be able to transform you if all I had to eat was something besides cookies. We just prefer our favourite foods.”

Marinette decided not to point out that Tikki had snubbed other baked goods in favour of cookies, but she supposed the situation had never been desperate. Not like this, anyway. “Tikki, spots on!”

Plagg flew out of her hand as the suit appeared but settled on her shoulder again. She picked up the handkerchief and photograph and, under Plagg’s guidance, picked her way along the tunnels toward Chat Noir and Mirror Image. They had been closer than she’d thought; it was no wonder Chat Noir had been able to hear her call out the reversal spell.

“Ah, my lady.” Chat Noir did not take her hand, but she doubted he could see her any more than she could see him. “Meet Henri Moreau, one-time intrepid explorer of the catacombs.”

“I am sorry, Ladybug. I do not know what happened.”

“It will be all right, monsieur. The confusion will pass.” She would lay a hand on his shoulder if she knew where it was. She had never known darkness so complete; it was making her eyes play tricks on her. She was better off keeping them closed—and keeping them from being strained, searching for light that wasn’t there. “Chat Noir, you need to transform and lead us out of here.”

“But Plagg—”

“Cookies aren’t camembert, but they’ll do in a pinch.”

She heard his teeth click as his mouth snapped shut. Then, “Plagg, you eat _cookies_?”

“Under protest,” the kwami chimed. 

Chat Noir huffed. “I don’t know why this surprises me when you tried to eat practically everything in sight when I first met you.” Before Marinette (or Henri) had a chance to ask, he called, “Plagg, claws out!” Plagg disappeared from her shoulder, and she heard Chat Noir breathe a sigh of relief. Then, “I don’t think I’ll be able to find my way out of here even with Henri’s guidance. We’d have to wander until we could find a landmark where he can orient himself. I’ll have to cause a cave-in.”

Marinette frowned. “I don’t know if I can repair that. I’ve never tried outside of a fight. What if you hurt someone?”

“I have a rough idea of where I came in, and if you stay back with Henri, I should be able to collapse it without harming either of you or anyone above us.” 

Marinette didn’t have a better idea, so she didn’t argue. Chat Noir was her partner. She should be able to trust him. Revealing her identity before had just been part of his plan to trick Mirror Image and Hawk Moth. She just had to keep telling herself that; she knew it was the truth. But he still _had_ revealed her identity rather than come up with some other gamble, and that didn’t sit well with her. They weren’t supposed to know each other’s identities. And they were certainly much safer if Hawk Moth didn’t know theirs.

To Henri’s credit, he said nothing, absorbing the information from their brief exchange in silence. Marinette hoped it wouldn’t end up on the Ladyblog eventually—she didn’t need to give Alya more reason to look closely at her, especially since she wasn’t wholly convinced Alya still believed Paris’s Ladybug was the same Ladybug who had been in ancient Egypt—but that was far from her primary concern at the moment. They needed to get out of here, and she needed to figure out how much damage had been done.

 _No use crying over spilled milk_. She couldn’t do anything about it now. Instead, Marinette allowed Chat Noir to take her hand, and she took Henri’s in hers, and they blindly followed Chat Noir.

-|-

Adrien couldn’t be certain he was in the right spot, but it was as near to it as he thought he’d be likely to come. “Stay here,” he advised before walking forward on his own and giving them a good ten metre berth. He looked up and around, judging the tunnel. He didn’t know enough to really tell this section apart from the rest of it; he was making his judgement by instinct as much as memory. “Cataclysm!” 

The top of the tunnel was still low enough that he could touch it without needing to stretch far, and he rested his hand there for a moment before pulling away and leaping back. He was the only one to see the spider web of cracks splintering out from the point of contact, but Henri and Ladybug jumped as the rock thundered down in front of them and they ended up coughing on inhaled dust as a result.

Adrien didn’t wait for the dust to settle. He could see daylight filtering through, and that meant he’d been wrong in his judgement of where they were. He planted his staff and then extended it, letting it take up him to the surface. 

He was near where he’d come in, by the _Petite Ceinture_ but parallel to it, as if they’d been following a tunnel that had been an offshoot of the original one; he must have taken a wrong turn earlier. He’d been lucky enough to come up in a grassy embankment by the old railway and had fortuitously managed _not_ to bring a building down on their heads instead. 

“It’s clear,” he called as he extended his staff a little farther and let it tip to the side, dropping him on the bank. Ladybug’s yo-yo zipped out beside him and wrapped tightly around a sycamore tree. _That_ was luck, considering it had been a blind throw. At the very least, he’d expected to be the one to fetch Henri, but Ladybug surfaced with him a moment later, both of them squinting in the light and covered in dust but otherwise perfectly fine.

“Thank you both,” Henri said when he was settled safely away from the gaping entrance. “I don’t know how to repay you. I…I don’t know what came over me.”

“You haven’t been yourself,” Ladybug said. “We don’t blame you.”

Adrien hoped that she would glance at him as she spoke those words so he could take comfort in the knowledge that they carried a double meaning, but her gaze stayed firmly on Henri. He swallowed and instead asked the question that had been gnawing at him since he’d heard Henri’s name. “Do you have a wife named Lucille? And a son, Pierre?”

Henri was suddenly very still, and this time Ladybug did look at him—but it was only to glare. Hawk Moth’s victims were always aware of what had pushed them over the edge, even if they did not recall making the deal Adrien knew they did, nor anything that came afterward. He and Ladybug had decided long ago that, aside from a few words to prevent it from happening again, if possible, they should not get involved. People’s lives were their own—and they usually didn’t have much time.

His ring beeped to remind him of that little fact, and the second toe pad disappeared. He had three minutes left, and that wasn’t enough time when Ladybug was upset enough that she didn’t even offer her fist or the words he wanted to hear in what had become a ritual between them since the beginning.

But he hadn’t done a good job. He’d made a mess of things. He knew the truth, she didn’t, and _none of this was right, not anymore_.

“I do,” Henri admitted, turning to show Adrien the restored photograph Ladybug had given him. “I’m just not sure for how much longer.”

The picture showed a laughing Lucille outside the _Palais Garnier_ , another man at her side, and suddenly her earlier comments—and Mirror Image’s—made sense. “You think she’s being unfaithful?” Adrien shook his head. “She’s not. She’s just annoyed you _think_ she is. Have you asked her about it?”

“About her and André? She says it’s nothing!”

Ladybug was frowning at him. “Chat Noir—”

“I ran into her earlier today,” he explained, both to her and to Henri. “She implied that her husband was imagining something like this. Please, just speak with her and hear her out. And….” He hesitated, glancing at Ladybug, before adding, “Tell her…. Tell her I’ll do one better than that autograph, if my lady is willing. As a surprise. For Pierre.” It would give Henri an opening to what still very much promised to be an awkward, angry conversation full of misunderstandings and hurt feelings. And it would give Ladybug a reason to see him again, if only to hear him out.

Not that he wouldn’t see her otherwise, sitting right behind him in school as she had since the second day of class.

How would she look at him if she knew the truth?

His ring beeped again.

“You should go, Chat Noir. I’ll see Henri off.” 

Ladybug had made an effort to keep her tone warm, but it was for Henri’s sake, not his. Adrien bowed with an extravagant flourish that felt hollow, murmured, “As you wish,” to Ladybug, and winked at Henri before scampering off. Once it was safe, his transformation dissolved, and he turned his attention to poor Plagg, who insisted that he get twice as much camembert this time as usual.

Adrien wasn’t going to argue; he’d agreed to as much earlier, and they had only really gotten out of this because of Plagg and Ladybug—well, Marinette, as she’d had extra cookies. She’d been prepared. He hadn’t, and more than just Plagg had nearly paid the price. He felt guilty, over both Plagg and Ladybug. Because he’d betrayed her. It had been a ruse, but he had still betrayed her, even if it had just been to save her, and they both knew it.

-|-

Nathalie was waiting for Adrien when he walked through the door, which wasn’t entirely surprising. He’d ended up skipping a piano lesson in order to chase after Mirror Image, and the Gorilla was probably out looking for him right now. Unfortunately, Nathalie always assumed he shirked his responsibilities to go hang out with Nino unless he’d happened to be in the area of a known attack, something Adrien couldn’t exactly deny because he didn’t have a good excuse for running off but something that he was careful never to confirm nonetheless. Needless to say, allowing Nathalie to make that assumption did not improve her opinion of Nino. It certainly didn’t improve his father’s.

“Your father is waiting to see you,” she said primly. “I trust you’ll not keep him waiting.”

Adrien swallowed. She’d called his father? This was far from the first time he’d disappeared on her watch, but for her to call Father….

Adrien didn’t ask where his father was waiting, and Nathalie didn’t volunteer the information. They both knew he was in his study. Adrien was not allowed in there unless he had been sent for; this had been the rule for as long as he could remember. He had not seen the inside of his father’s study for a long time now. Gabriel Agreste had taken to letting his disappointment in his son be known in small ways—missing events or meals, forbidding parties or visits with friends, keeping silent when they could have had a conversation. The last time Adrien had stepped into his father’s study, he’d been given the news about his mother.

Adrien walked the path as slowly as he dared. “Plagg,” he murmured eventually, “do you want to wait for me in my room?”

Plagg didn’t bother poking his head out of Adrien’s jacket. “Do you want me to?”

“No,” Adrien whispered.

“Then no.”

To Plagg, it was that simple. Adrien almost smiled. It was good to have a friend he could rely on—especially since he wasn’t sure where he stood with Ladybug. With Marinette. He’d have to tell her who he was—he wanted to, even if he wasn’t sure how she’d take it—but he wasn’t sure how, and he didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.

Adrien stopped in front of his father’s study and knocked on the door.

“Come in, Adrien.”

Adrien opened the door and spied his father leaning over his desk, which held the same organized chaos that Adrien vaguely remembered. He hovered by the doorway for a second, closing the door only at his father’s request, and then went to stand to the left of the desk and waited.

Gabriel Agreste finished scratching out a few notes before setting down his fountain pen and turning to Adrien. He rose, and Adrien had to consciously not shrink in his presence. “Would you like to tell me what this is all about, Adrien?”

Adrien swallowed but made himself meet his father’s gaze. “I’m sorry I neglected my duties, Father.” He couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t do it again, and outright lying was out of the question. This was _Father_.

Gabriel’s lips thinned. He waited. Adrien tried not to squirm. “This is not first time,” Gabriel said at length, “that you’ve found it necessary to shirk your responsibilities.”

“I never thought to ask Nathalie to reschedule,” Adrien admitted. This was perfectly true, as there was never time to warn her of anything once he realized he needed to transform as soon as he could. He did usually try to let her know after the fact, but that was often too little, too late.

“So your leave of absence was planned.”

Adrien shook his head. “Just important.”

“More important than your lessons, your photoshoots, your practices? Were you raised to be disrespectful to those who have set aside their time for you? Were you raised to be disrespectful to me and to your family name?”

“No, Father,” Adrien replied quietly. He studied the carpet now, his eyes tracing its intricate design. “I was not.” He didn’t try to defend his actions. Defending them was the wrong move right now. Defending them would lead to questions, and the questions would invariably lead to the truth. It was easier to lie to Mirror Image, even to Ladybug, than to his father. 

“Yet you are.”

 _Because I must be_. But Adrien couldn’t say that, couldn’t afford to explain about being Chat Noir. Plagg’s warnings about others knowing his identity had never applied to Ladybug, surely, but they _had_ applied to his father. Adrien knew that. He’d accepted it. 

And now he had to live with it.

“Adrien.” Was that resignation in his father’s voice? “You can be honest with me. I did not summon you here to punish you. I asked you to come so that I could understand.”

There was nothing to understand, not without explanations. There were only misunderstandings, misconceptions, indirect lies, and uncorrected assumptions. That had become Adrien’s life, a barrier broken only by Plagg. He’d watched his words around Nathalie and the Gorilla, pushed away Chloé, and never let Nino or anyone else in deeply enough to give them a chance to discover the truth. And he’d shut out his father—though in truth, loathe though he was to admit it, doing so had been fairly easy given the distance between them that had once been filled by his mother. 

Adrien Agreste must only be Adrien Agreste, and Chat Noir must remain only Chat Noir.

Ladybug was supposed to be the one to draw the connection between them, at least if Adrien had had his way, but he’d tried to keep everyone else as far from the truth as possible.

And now Ladybug might—justifiably—never want to know who he really was, might not even want to work with him anymore, and his father was the one asking questions that should have come up months ago.

Adrien supposed he was lucky he had gotten away with it for so long.

Nathalie and the Gorilla must have both noticed—they knew his schedules just as well as his father, if not better—and he wondered what they thought. Convenient excuses like _teenage rebelliousness_ and _newfound friendships_ were only going to take him so far. But it would still be easier to bend the truth around them than around his father.

His father always had an uncanny ability to cut through to the truth of things, just like his mother, and Adrien had never been in the habit of lying to either of them because it just wasn’t _done_.

He’d been so shocked the first time Nino had casually let on that he’d told his parents a lie that Adrien had nearly choked on the water he’d been drinking at the time. Nino had laughed, teasing Adrien, and Adrien had never corrected Nino’s assumption that the water had simply gone down the wrong pipe. It had only been a small, harmless lie, just that Nino was working on a project with Adrien when in reality they were simply hanging out, something that might not have been allowed given that Nino and Adrien had been together every day that week when Adrien hadn’t had practice of one sort or another, but it had still felt like a foreign concept to Adrien. To lie about anything larger, to lie about _this_ ….

“Sit down,” his father said, gesturing to the only other chair in the room, the chair that had once belonged to Adrien’s mother. Adrien pulled up the chair obediently, quickly and quietly even though Gabriel’s voice hadn’t carried the bite of an order. “Tell me about your life. I’ve missed far too much of it lately.”

“I’m grateful you allowed me to attend school this year, Father,” Adrien said slowly as his father took his own seat again. “I’ve made many friends.”

“And you were with them now?”

“No, Father.” Ladybug did count as a friend—even if she may no longer count him as one—but she went beyond being a mere friend. She was more than his friend, more than his partner. She was his inspiration, his hero, the one with the smile that made him feel like he was flying even when he wasn’t soaring over rooftops with her….

Adrien lowered his eyes to his lap, staring at his folded hands. Staring at the ring he’d found after that first day of school. He’d never asked Plagg where it had come from; he’d merely welcomed it and accepted its conditions. Even this one. Looking at the ring now, he was reminded of everything, and his mouth dried up.

He said nothing, even though he knew his father was waiting for him to fill the silence.

Unfortunately, his father was more skilled at that than he was. Adrien opened his mouth, closed it, shifted in his chair, and risked a glance at his father again. It was that same look with which Adrien was intimately familiar, the one which meant he’d disappointed his father yet again—not accusing, as it could be, but just _disappointed_. Because Adrien had failed him. Again.

Gabriel still did not ask the question that hung between them— _What were you doing, if you were not with your friends?_ —but the expectation of an answer was painfully tangible, weighing on Adrien. He couldn’t reply to it, not honestly. If he did….

Adrien’s mouth opened, and he formed the only words he could: “I’m sorry.”

Silence.

Adrien forced himself to meet his father’s gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m doing the best I can, Father. I’m—” Adrien jerked as Plagg’s claw dug into his chest and he clamped his mouth shut with a click of teeth. It was a warning not to say too much, the only one Plagg could give. Adrien had grown so used to the warm pocket by his heart that he’d almost forgotten Plagg was there. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’ve been struggling for a while, haven’t you?” 

The question caught Adrien by surprise. “I…. Pardon?” 

The disappointment had disappeared from his father’s expression; it had softened into something Adrien hadn’t seen for a long time now, a blend of understanding, concern, and love. “This has been hard for you,” Gabriel clarified. “All of it, especially these last years without your mother. I have been expecting too much from you, and I haven’t been there for you as much as I should have been. For that, I apologize.”

“You’re forgiven, Father, but you don’t—”

Gabriel held up one hand, and Adrien stopped immediately. “Will you let me help you, Adrien, to the best of my ability?”

Adrien didn’t understand why Plagg’s claws suddenly returned, digging even more deeply into his flesh, but this time he managed to keep still. He knew the offer was rare and would not be made twice; his father’s time was precious to more than just Adrien. He had always known that. Even as a child, he had spent more time with his mother, and it seemed his father had only gotten busier. The opportunity to spend time with his father was too good to pass up, even if it would be difficult to keep his secret. 

That must have been Plagg’s worry, the secret.

Perhaps he hadn’t been entirely thrilled with Adrien’s plan to trick Mirror Image—to trick Hawk Moth—either, given the cost of Ladybug’s secret. But Henri would never remember, Adrien would never tell, and Hawk Moth—even if he did know—was unlikely to find her. Marinette would be safe. Adrien would make sure of it, if she let him. So for now….

For now, there was no harm in accepting his father’s proposal. Adrien craved his father’s approval, and he was sure he could find a way to earn it without revealing the truth. “Yes, Father,” agreed Adrien. “Of course.”


	7. Chapter 7

Gabriel watched as Adrien closed the door behind him, though he did not immediately rise from his chair to lock the door. Adrien would not return uninvited, and Nathalie and the rest of his staff knew never to come in without his leave. Even if someone was fool enough to try, he would have enough warning. He had made sure of that long ago.

Adrien’s footsteps receded, but Gabriel did not relax. He disliked that it had come to this, but he was going to make the best of it. He had to. For Adrien. For himself. And, most importantly, for her.

“This is wrong, Master.”

Nooroo had not spoken against him like this since their early days together. “He agreed,” Gabriel pointed out, keeping a firm grip on his anger for now. One move had gone in his favour, but the game was far from over. He did not yet hold the prize.

Nooroo emerged from his hiding spot, one of the cubbyholes within Gabriel’s desk. He did not meet Gabriel’s gaze, but he still tried to argue. “I don’t think he realized—”

“He agreed,” Gabriel repeated firmly as he rose to his feet. He secured the door and turned back to his kwami. “Agreement is all that is required. Dark wings rise, Nooroo.” Nooroo had had enough time to feed and regain his energy, and he made no effort to fight the transformation. Gabriel closed his eyes as the magic washed over him, swirls of purple and silver, so different from the time long before…. 

It did not matter. He didn’t intend to hold this transformation for long; he detested transforming here, even if it was one of the safest places to do so within his home. It was merely good fortune that he knew from past experience that he did not need to retain his transformation in order to maintain Nooroo’s transformative power over others. Such a gem of knowledge had not been revealed by Nooroo, nor had it been detailed in the pages of the ancient tome he had managed to decipher so far. Those pages had told him much—the terrible reward of wielding both the Ring of the Black Cat and the Earrings of the Ladybug was made clear in explicit detail—but he required continued study of the book to discover all its secrets.

Nooroo’s explanations were useful, but aside from warnings, he had become reluctant to volunteer information. He would answer Gabriel’s questions truthfully, but he rarely said more than strictly necessary. Gabriel did not dare awaken the Peacock Miraculous—not now, not yet—but there were times he wished he could command another kwami.

He soon would, if all went well.

A white butterfly landed on the windowsill, drawn here by the sudden release of Nooroo’s magic. Gabriel strode to the window and let it in, and within seconds it had settled silently on the palm of his left hand. He whispered to it the details of his contract with Adrien as Nooroo’s magic seeped over it, ensuring it would touch no soul but his son’s and that it would seek him until contact was made.

“Go,” Gabriel ordered, and the butterfly flitted out the window. 

It would not be long now.

-|-

“Why the claws?” Adrien asked Plagg once they were safely in his room. He sat at his computer desk—once he got the answer out of Plagg, he intended to check the Ladyblog for sightings of Ladybug—and Plagg hovered at eye level a few feet away. Even now, he looked uneasy. His tail kept twitching.

“So you didn’t say anything you shouldn’t,” Plagg retorted. “Didn’t seem to help.”

“I meant the second time,” Adrien chided. “Father is worried, but that doesn’t mean he will find out about you.”

Another tail twitch, and this time his antennae quivered, too. “There was something…wrong about that question.”

Adrien frowned. “Plagg, I know you aren’t happy with how Father—”

“It’s not that.” Plagg zipped closer, nearly to Adrien’s nose, and Adrien found he needed to look cross-eyed to see Plagg at all. “You didn’t feel anything?”

“Feel what?”

Plagg drifted back and gave an approximation of a shrug. “Wrongness,” he said, very unhelpfully in typical Plagg fashion.

“About Father’s interest in my life?” Adrien didn’t bother to keep the skepticism out of his voice. “Plagg, you know something changed after we fought Jackady. That was the first time Father had hugged me in a long time. I think he realized that we were both missing something. This is a good change. It isn’t wrong.”

“It’s not the interest that was wrong,” Plagg protested. “It was the question. And that _feeling_ that came with it.”

“Father’s just concerned! He knows missing appointments isn’t like me.” 

“It is now,” Plagg muttered. Adrien knew Nathalie had reported that he had gotten caught up in an attack before, whenever he happened to be conveniently close to a villain, but that excuse didn’t hold for times like now—and Plagg knew that as well as he did. Louder, the kwami said, “Even if he’s concerned, it just rubbed me the wrong way. I don’t know why. Something’s off, not like it should be, and it was just….”

“Wrong,” Adrien supplied.

“Wrong,” Plagg agreed. “Now, are you going to get me more camembert? I still haven’t gotten the cookie taste out of my mouth.”

The sudden change in topic took Adrien by surprise, but he supposed it shouldn’t. This was Plagg, after all. “Marinette’s cookies are delicious,” he pointed out, “and so are her father’s. Whichever those were, I doubt you need to get the taste out of your mouth.”

“It doesn’t compare to camembert.”

“No, that stinky cheese doesn’t come close to the heavenly sweetness of fresh baking.” Plagg stuck out his tongue at Adrien, and Adrien snickered but dutifully set some more cheese out on his desk for Plagg. As Plagg descended to devour it, Adrien pulled up the Ladyblog. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

Plagg swallowed the last of the cheese and looked up at the computer screen. “Ladybug?”

“Marinette.”

“Same person.”

“I know. But Marinette’s the one beneath Ladybug’s mask. Ladybug might keep working with me so we can defeat Hawk Moth, but Marinette’s the one I betrayed.”

“That wasn’t true treachery. She knows that by now, and Tikki will talk to her if she doesn’t.” Plagg turned his attention to hunting for nonexistent crumbs of cheese. “Tikki’s good at convincing people.”

“So you think she’ll forgive me? With time?”

“How should I know?”

Adrien sighed. The Pharaoh incident had told him Ladybug had been around for a long time, meaning Tikki had been around for a long time, and he had no reason to think that Plagg was any different. He was sure all magic like this was meant to be ancient, anyway. It always was in stories. But if Plagg had gained any wisdom in all his years, he was rarely inclined to share it unless it suited his direct interests. 

Mostly because, unless it suited his direct interests, he didn’t pay much attention to anything.

A quick scan of the Ladyblog revealed no verified sightings of Ladybug in the last half hour, though that might be because discussion about a shapeshifter was still rife. “Well, then how do you think I should apologize to her? I haven’t done that yet, not really. Should I go as myself and tell her who I am then? Or just go as Chat Noir and _then_ —” Adrien broke off as he saw Plagg suddenly stiffen, hackles rising. “What is it?”

“Wrongness,” Plagg hissed as he darted back into the air. “Can’t you feel that?”

All Adrien felt was confusion, but Plagg’s ears had flattened and his antennae trembled. Though he stayed close to Adrien, his eyes started searching the room, and Adrien looked around as well. He had no idea what he was looking for, of course. Whatever Plagg could feel—whether it was some sort of sixth sense, something magic-related, or just a bad reaction to the sweets earlier—was lost on him, but Adrien didn’t doubt the kwami. Not when it came to something like this.

“Adrien.” The tip of Plagg’s tail flicked. “Run.”

“Run?” Adrien repeated dumbly, not moving from the computer chair. “Why? What is it?” He followed Plagg’s gaze and finally saw it: an akuma fluttering against his bedroom windows, looking for a way inside. As it moved toward to the bathroom, Adrien jumped to his feet and ran to make sure the window was closed. It was, but the akuma was already working its way through the crack. Adrien backed away on instinct, bumping into Plagg who had followed him into the room. “It’s coming for _me_?” His voice cracked in spite of himself. “But I’m not.... I wasn’t….”

“We have to stay separate,” Plagg said, not taking his eyes from the struggling akuma. “As either Adrien or Chat Noir, you’re susceptible to the akuma’s magic, but if I’m with your Miraculous, you’ve already given Hawk Moth what he wants. Run. Find Ladybug. Marinette. Tell her what’s going on. I’ll try to slow it down.”

_Slow it down_. Not _stop it_. Because it couldn’t be stopped, not without it being recalled or Ladybug cleansing it of evil. 

The akuma pulled itself fully into the room, Plagg pounced, and Adrien fled.

-|-

Once she’d dropped Henri onto a sidewalk, Marinette searched for a police officer to warn about the gaping hole she and Chat Noir had left in the ground. Lucky Charm wasn’t much use outside an akuma attack, or at least not when it came to filling in a steep drop into the catacombs. Frankly, she was lucky the first officer she found (not Lieutenant Roger but probably someone she had had to fight at some point anyway) was too concerned about surveying the damage to question her before looking away.

And she only needed a moment to disappear, a moment to latch her yo-yo onto something and pull herself up to the rooftops, sprinting and swinging away.

Even if she couldn’t run away from her feelings as easily as she could from the damage.

Marinette wasn’t sure if the twisting feeling of guilt in her gut was because of the problem she’d effectively dumped in the poor policewoman’s lap or because of how short she’d been with Chat Noir earlier.

He was her partner. He’d only been trying to help. He just hadn’t thought about the position he’d put her in, now that Hawk Moth would know her identity.

Maybe she was just thinking the worst. Maybe Hawk Moth didn’t even know who she was. The chances of him following Jagged Stone’s career closely enough to know her from her album cover design were slim (somehow, she doubted she and Chat Noir were fighting someone close to their own age), and how likely was he to frequent the Dupain-Cheng bakery, of all the ones in the city, or follow fashion closely enough to know of her winning design? She might just be a nameless girl to him, one of Paris’s many teenagers.

She would just have to be extra careful, that’s all, and watch for any sign that he _had_ figured out who she was, that he had found her and her family and was willing to use them to manipulate her. 

For all she knew, Chat Noir hadn’t recognized her, either. Well, he would recognize her—poor Nathanaël’s crush had guaranteed that—but maybe he hadn’t been able to place where he’d recognized her from. Perhaps she’d misinterpreted his first look, and she was merely one familiar face among many but not someone familiar enough to put a name to. She’d have to find out. She would, no doubt, need his help protecting her family and friends if it came to that. And then, even if he didn’t truly know who she was before, he’d learn exactly who she was beneath the mask—flaws and all. 

She wasn’t sure why that bothered her so much. She knew Chat Noir had wanted to know her identity, but until today, he’d respected her wishes against it. Was she angry because he had found out or because of _how_ he’d found out? 

She wished she could convince herself that her anger was solely because of Tikki’s warnings against _anyone_ finding out the truth, but she hadn’t forgotten the stab of betrayal she’d felt. It had been an act, but it had been a realistic one, and for a moment there….

Marinette stopped her frantic flight, reigning in her yo-yo as she balanced on a rooftop and looked out at the city around her. It was late afternoon, the view marked with glints of sunlight and stretching shadows beyond that. Even from her height, the wind wasn’t enough to drown out the hubbub of traffic below or the distant sounds of construction, pierced by sirens and—since she wasn’t far from a park—shrieks of laughter. The air seemed fresher than usual, and the city felt very much _alive_ to her after spending time in the heavy darkness of the catacombs.

She felt lucky.

Being Ladybug had afforded her an opportunity to see Paris as she never had before; no doubt Chat Noir had experienced the same. He had always had more courage than she, and not all of it simply bravado, but he had embraced his role as Chat Noir. She had tried to run away from it, just as she was running now, because she had been afraid that she couldn’t do something like this. 

But Tikki had been right: she was cut out to be Ladybug. And Chat Noir…. She couldn’t imagine someone else being Chat Noir. If given the choice, she would never replace her partner. And, were their roles reversed, she would have done her best to save him. Just as he had for her.

She’d been thinking that Chat Noir had been making everything up on the fly—and perhaps he was, at least for the most part. They both knew Hawk Moth wanted their Miraculous. When trying to bargain with him, they could offer little else. But what had Chat Noir said when she’d told him to run? _This isn’t a trap. This is a prearranged meeting._ She must still be missing something. Mirror Image must have met with Chat Noir after all. That part had never been a lie.

Chat Noir had bargained for her safety and that of her family. The deal wouldn’t stand now, of course, not without Hawk Moth holding her Miraculous, but he had tried to protect her. He had tried to protect her and her family, knowing exactly what she’d be concerned about. She and Chat Noir rarely spoke of their families—it would be difficult to keep their lives separate and their identities secret if they did—but she had warned him before that she might be late for patrol because of one family event or another.

She couldn’t recall him ever mentioning something like that.

He spoke vaguely of commitments rather frequently, usually while apologizing for being held up or unable to get away to transform, but _family_ was not a reason she remembered ever passing his lips. Perhaps he simply never wanted to specify—if he came from a large family, telling her most of his commitments were family-related could have tipped her off—or perhaps he wasn’t as close to his family as she was to hers.

It was funny, but for all that her silly kitty had made it clear he’d love for them to know each other’s identities, he had never given her many hints.

He was a better actor than she’d anticipated, much better than when he’d played bait for Mr. Pigeon, and he knew something of the art of bargaining. He was a good fighter—he’d been better than her at combat all along—and he apparently had some connections with high society if he’d felt confident in spotting a switch in the Bourgeois family. He was allergic to feathers, had a terrible fondness for puns, and was brave to the point of foolishness. She didn’t know enough. As far as she could tell, he’d taken to becoming a hero like a fish to water, so she wasn’t sure if his knowledge of the city (even from above!) was the product of hours of study or something he’d picked up beforehand. 

Marinette pulled up the tracker option on her yo-yo, but Chat Noir wasn’t transformed. Even if she wanted to talk to him, she couldn’t find him. But perhaps that was for the best. The logical part of her mind understood his actions, but her heart wasn’t quite ready to forgive them. 

Had he always played his cards so close to his chest? She’d called him on keeping secrets earlier today, and he’d managed to evade her even if she hadn’t realized it at the time. Maybe that was when he’d met with Mirror Image; he certainly hadn’t seemed quite himself afterwards, although she was certain it had been him. Copycat’s blatant disregard for the rules had been designed to get Chat Noir in trouble. Mirror Image…. Mirror Image had used Chat Noir in a different way.

Mirror Image hadn’t tried to turn the public against Chat Noir; he had tried to turn Chat Noir against her and, by consequence, her against him. It had been a simple divide and conquer technique. Chat Noir had played along to try to fool Mirror Image, and she’d fallen for both of their ploys. 

Maybe she felt guilty now because she didn’t dare feel too angry—even at herself, even if she deserved it—because she didn’t dare present herself as a potential victim to Hawk Moth. The last thing Paris needed was to lose one of its heroes—or worse, both.

Marinette closed her yo-yo and sighed. She’d need to talk things over with Tikki, if only to get a different perspective on the situation. Maybe, after that, she’d be ready to face her partner.

Because he was still her partner, even after this. They needed to defend their city, and they needed to defeat Hawk Moth. She couldn’t do it alone. And she didn’t want to work with anyone else in Chat Noir’s stead. He was one of the reasons she had accepted her role as Ladybug, and she owed him thanks for that if nothing else.

-|-

Adrien sprinted down the stairs and out the front door, calling something incomprehensible to Nathalie as he flew by.

Marinette wasn’t answering her phone, and Adrien could only hope he had the right number. Nino had passed it on to him from Alya even before he had ended up at Marinette’s place to play video games or act as a translator, though in truth, Adrien hadn’t yet needed her number; most of the time, Alya seemed to arrange things, at least when they were all meeting up. 

The phone finally cut to voicemail. It _was_ Marinette’s, but that didn’t do him any good. For all he knew, she was still transformed, and he couldn’t track Ladybug when he wasn’t Chat Noir. Unless someone had posted a sighting on Alya’s blog in the last couple of minutes?

Slowing down to check right now would take too long, especially when it was unlikely he’d be that lucky. He bit off a quick message that was suitably vague in case anyone else overheard it— _Marinette, it’s Adrien. I need your help._ —before shoving his cell phone into his pocket and focusing on putting some distance between himself and the akuma. Plagg would slow it down. He _had_ to slow it down. If Adrien looked over his shoulder now, he wouldn’t see it coming after him, not yet….

_Don’t look. Just run._

It wasn’t until he was cutting through the _Place des Vosges_ that Adrien realized where he was going: Marinette’s. She might not be home, but he still had to try. And if she wasn’t home….

Adrien hesitated, misjudged his next step, tripped over his own feet, and found himself sprawled on the grass with sore hands and knees and a throbbing ankle. Panting, he got back to his feet and took off again, slower than before and suppressing a wince with each step. He couldn’t afford to wait for Marinette to come back if she wasn’t there, but he certainly couldn’t afford not to check in the first place. He wasn’t sure what he’d say to her. He’d probably end up saying everything all at once, in a jumble.

Hopefully the grass stains would help convince her that this wasn’t all some elaborate joke on his part.

Adrien reached the statue dedicated to Ladybug and Chat Noir and finally risked a glance over his shoulder. The akuma was closer than he’d anticipated, flying with apparent ease despite what looked like a torn wing. _Magic_. Adrien surged forward, hurling himself away and stumbling into a run. He didn’t have time to catch his breath or nurse his injuries. He had to keep moving.

A pedestrian swerved to avoid him as he burst out of the park, and he had a fleeting thought about how disappointed his father would be to see him like this. Being dishevelled (much less dirty and stained) in public was unacceptable, as was running wildly and recklessly. He was Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste, and he represented their brand as much as he did their family. He was destroying their image. It was utterly intolerable.

It was, no doubt, as intolerable as allowing himself to fall victim to Hawk Moth and become the latest villain to plague the city. It just wouldn’t do. He must simply exercise better control over himself and his emotions.

If his father knew as much about Hawk Moth and how he operated as Adrien did, he would surely say something like that. At the very least, his disapproval that Adrien had not realized such things earlier would have been made clear. If he somehow found out that Adrien _had_ known such things and had _still_ allowed himself to be controlled?

He might never be allowed to attend school with his friends again, not after such a lapse of judgement.

Although it would mean he wouldn’t have to face Marinette almost every day. He couldn’t imagine what she was going to say after this, once she learned the truth. She would be as disappointed in him as his father—if she even disdained to allow herself to feel anything but dislike for him. He couldn’t bear the thought of that. He didn’t want to disappoint both of them, and he didn’t want to lose her forever.

But it was quite likely that he already had, after what he had done today.

Adrien blinked back tears as he made a wild dash across the street, not quite sure if they were brought on chiefly by his churning emotions or the jabbing pain in his right ankle which stabbed upwards every time he put weight on it. He headed for the bakery like it was a sanctuary, even though he knew very well it wasn’t, but if he could just get to Marinette….

Adrien reached out his right hand to grasp the door handle, and the akuma landed on his ring.

-|-

Gabriel felt a rush of magic as the connection was made, and he smiled. “Hello, Chat Noir,” he said. He could read the emotions rolling off his son, panic and desperation barely masking the inner turmoil of guilt and regret and utter _worthlessness_. He would have to address them another time, but for now it was necessary to use them. 

_“Hawk Moth.”_ The acknowledgement was spoken with an undertone of bitter resignation, though that did not surprise Gabriel in the slightest. Adrien could not fight an arrangement he had already agreed to, and Nooroo’s magic was such that anyone who agreed would become his champion. Adrien’s eagerness, which was currently lacking, would come to fruition once the terms were laid out.

“You would ensure the health and safety of those you love,” Gabriel began. “I wish for the same, and we can achieve our goals together. All we need are the Miraculous. Bring them to me.”

The silence stretched for longer than it should have, but at last Adrien acknowledged him. _“I understand, Hawk Moth.”_

Gabriel felt the magic bubble out from the akuma and breathed a little easier in spite of himself. Knowing something would go his way did not guarantee it would go smoothly, but Adrien had become his champion, and the plan was in progress. He was one step closer.

This was for the best, for both him and Adrien. The boy would understand one day. And until then, Gabriel would keep doing the best he could. “Wings fall, Nooroo.” 

His transformation receded, and Nooroo reappeared. “This is wrong, Master,” he repeated.

“Eat and regain your strength,” commanded Gabriel as he moved to unlock the study door again. “We are not finished yet.”


	8. Chapter 8

“He’ll owe me a whole wheel of camembert after this,” Plagg muttered as he zipped toward the Eiffel Tower. “Or ten.” He had long since lost sight of the akuma. He was not proud that it had gotten away from him so quickly, but he had known he wouldn’t be able to contain it for long. Nooroo’s magic had always been to temporarily grant people powers, to transform them into champions, into heroes. It hadn’t been meant to be used like this, but Plagg wasn’t good at countering it. Not on his own.

Plagg stayed high enough up that he might be mistaken for a bird by any who happened to glance up and see him, but he kept his eyes peeled as he scanned the city below. He didn’t _really_ hope to spot the akuma or Adrien—with any luck, Adrien had managed to get a good distance away—but he was looking for Ladybug. Or Marinette. Either would work at the moment, as far as he was concerned.

Unfortunately, he could see neither.

The Eiffel Tower wasn’t the best place to try to spot her from, but it would help him to get his bearings—which he would need, if he took advantage of his second option in this situation. 

There was a good chance that if the akuma hadn’t caught up to Adrien already, it would soon. Plagg knew that. He also knew he couldn’t help Adrien by himself. But if he couldn’t find Tikki and Marinette to warn them, he could at least enlist other help to protect them. Wayzz thought Master Fu too old to be out in the field, and it wasn’t that Plagg disagreed, exactly, but he couldn’t do this on his own, and there certainly wasn’t time for someone else to train.

Of course, there was a chance Wayzz would know something was wrong already, at least if the akuma had caught up to Adrien. He might already be making preparations, getting ready to do something. But Plagg wasn’t lucky. Not when it counted, anyway. Still, unless he could find her, Tikki’s luck might not be any better. Even if Wayzz and Master Fu weren’t sure how much help they could be without that old book that had been lost for generations, they might have some ideas, and Plagg was willing to try anything at this point.

But was he willing to risk Tikki’s freedom by trying to sort things out with Wayzz and Master Fu before finding and warning her? The last thing he wanted to do was give her over to Hawk Moth; having Nooroo captive was bad enough. He could fight Tikki’s magic if it came down to it, better than he ever could Nooroo’s, but he didn’t want to. 

Although even if he did look for her, there was no guarantee he’d find her before Adrien did.

And there was the very real possibility that Adrien would still manage to find him first.

Tikki would know the right move to make, but Plagg certainly didn’t. He could find the way to Master Fu’s easily enough from here, but he’d caught a whiff of baking earlier, and it was enough to remind him that Marinette lived nearby. She would come home eventually, and he could find her there.

Of course, that assumed Adrien didn’t intercept her earlier—or that he didn’t have the same idea.

So maybe he should go to see Wayzz and Master Fu. Even if they couldn’t do much about the present situation, they may know of a way to help Nooroo now that they’d finally found him. 

Plagg swallowed and settled down on one of the tower’s intercrossing support bars. He was certain he knew where Nooroo was, that he knew who was terrorizing Paris as Hawk Moth. Arguably, he should have realized long ago—or at least earlier when he’d felt a brush of Nooroo’s latent magic. But Nooroo’s magic had been twisted, poisoned, used for evil, and he hadn’t recognized it. He’d just recognized it as _wrong_ , and now Adrien was in danger.

And even if he survived this, even if Plagg was able to see him as himself again—he wouldn’t be the same. Not once he knew the truth. Not once Plagg told him.

Gabriel Agreste was Hawk Moth. 

And Plagg would bet his precious supply of camembert that Hawk Moth knew his own son was Chat Noir.

The blatant manipulation of Adrien made Plagg’s stomach twist. It was bad enough that Nooroo’s powers were being misused, but now they were being used against his boy, and he couldn’t stand for that. Adrien had an uncanny ability to see the best in people—everyone except himself, it seemed—and he would never have thought his father capable of something like this. Plagg was less than enamoured with the man, but he’d only been in the same room with him a handful of times—a key reason for Plagg’s feelings, given how often he was by Adrien’s side. But it still wasn’t right that Hawk Moth had used Adrien’s trust to make his deal.

In a twisted sort of sense, that was more along the lines of how Nooroo’s power usually worked. Rather than preying upon those who were angry or upset or otherwise awash in negative emotion, Nooroo used to seek out people who wanted to help and offered them a chance to do just that, granting someone temporary powers to accomplish whatever was needed. Those people always agreed, and Plagg knew for a fact that some had left Nooroo with a standing agreement: if he could ever use them to help someone in need, he was free to do just that.

The transactions had never been with Nooroo directly, of course, and more often than not the wielder of the Butterfly Brooch fought alongside their champion, but Plagg had never before realized the danger of Nooroo’s latent magic.

Being able to make contracts, binding magic to them so that they could activate when necessary and remain active when the Miraculous holder was not transformed had once seemed a tremendous boon. It had meant someone could begin fighting the moment news of the danger arrived, mitigating damage and possibly containing the situation before the others arrived. Now, Plagg realized it could be more of a curse.

And Adrien had fallen victim to it.

Waiting to tell Wayzz and Master Fu who held Nooroo captive might be a betrayal of sorts in and of itself, especially since waiting meant he might never have another chance, but Plagg had to try to save Adrien. That meant finding Ladybug to warn her and Tikki, even if he risked capture himself. It was a terrible risk—destruction was not a power to be used lightly, and giving it to Hawk Moth would be disastrous; besides that, Plagg didn’t _want_ to be the man’s prisoner—but it was better than the alternative. It was better than losing Tikki, the one who could most effectively combat Nooroo’s powers. She needed to know. He had to find her.

Even if trying was the last thing he freely did.

-|-

Marinette dropped into her room, Tikki releasing her transformation as asked by the time Marinette had landed. Ten seconds later, Marinette was flopped onto her bed and staring at the ceiling, Tikki hovering anxiously above her. The way Tikki kept flitting about made Marinette feel even worse, even though it wasn’t her fault Chat Noir had discovered her identity. Still, Tikki had warned her against this right at the start.

“We can still make this work,” Marinette said, as much to convince herself as the kwami. “Chat Noir wouldn’t tell anyone, and he knows to be careful with his tongue.”

“He may not tell anyone intentionally,” Tikki muttered. “Plagg should have warned him about this.”

“Maybe he did and they just didn’t see another option?” Marinette wasn’t sure why she was defending Chat Noir’s actions when she still wasn’t sure how she felt about this herself. “Whatever the reason, he meant well.”

“Meaning well isn’t—” Tikki broke off as a shadow passed over the skylight and dove for cover, passing straight through the bed and disappearing from sight. A split second later, Chat Noir was crouching by the window, tapping on it and giving her a wave. With mixed feelings, Marinette reached up to let him in, and he dropped down next to her bed. 

“Apologies for the intrusion, Purr-incess,” he said easily, “but I couldn’t reach you earlier.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t have had any trouble. I thought you were the one who wasn’t transformed.” A guilty look flashed across Chat Noir’s face, but before he could snap off some witty remark, she added, “You should have waited. It’s dangerous to have you visiting me like this.”

Her partner’s face twisted into a distinct smirk. “You’re worried tongues will wag, thinking this particular cat has yours?”

Marinette gave him a good-natured shove. “You might as well sit down,” she said, pointing to her bed and sitting down herself. “We apparently need to lay a few ground rules. Like not visiting me at home. What if someone notices?”

“Like Alya?” The name rolled too easily off Chat Noir’s tongue, considering he should only know her as the moderator of the Ladyblog and not as Marinette’s best friend. “You’d come up with something to tell her. Or I could spin a good yarn; I know a thing or two about telling a good _tail_.” He flicked his at her for emphasis, and she rolled her eyes.

“Like Hawk Moth.” She shouldn’t need to spell this out for him. “Assuming he didn’t recognize me, we can’t risk him finding out who I am. The last thing I need is him targeting me personally. I don’t want to know what lengths he’d go to in order to get my Miraculous.”

There was almost something sinister in Chat Noir’s grin. “I expect he’d go as far as is necessary.”

Marinette sighed. “I know. If Mirror Image hadn’t just tied me up, I would have thought Hawk Moth wouldn’t stop at outright destroying us just to get our Miraculous. It certainly feels like he’s tried before.”

Chat Noir cocked his head, his eyes on the earring closest to him. “Maybe a direct attack doesn’t always work.”

“I’ve wondered about that,” Marinette agreed. “He’s had me pinned down before.”

Her partner’s eyes shifted, focusing on her again. “We’re the mice. The question is whether we’re in a maze or headed for a trap.”

Remembering what had happened to her earlier, Marinette found herself saying, “Trap. It’s always been a trap. We have what’s valuable to him, and we’re seeking him, not some prize or the way out.”

“Aren’t we seeking a prize?”

Marinette considered his words for a moment. “Peace for Paris,” she finally conceded. “Free of the fear he spreads.”

“Health and safety for those we love.”

Marinette nodded, glad that Chat Noir was starting take this seriously. “He’s targeted my family before, kitty, and that’s terrifying. And that’s why, in case he _doesn’t_ know who I am just by looking at me, you can’t visit me here like this. You’re easy to find when you’re transformed—we both are—and I don’t want to think that you might lead him to me by accident.” It was bad enough that she herself had come straight here, she supposed, but it had never been a problem before. However, if Chat Noir suddenly took an interest in Marinette Dupain-Cheng, which Alya would uncover sooner rather than later if this kept up—?

She didn’t need any more flags pointing toward her.

She already had enough trouble keeping her secret from Alya.

“You forget cats are known for their stealth.”

“You’re not one of them,” Marinette countered. Turning away from him, she called, “Tikki, has something like this happened before? What did you do then?”

Tikki, who should have resurfaced upon realizing that it was just Chat Noir, was conspicuously absent.

“Tikki?” It was too early to panic. Hawk Moth wouldn’t have found her yet, surely. But Marinette still worried and couldn’t stop it from creeping into her voice. “Tikki?” She got down onto her hands and knees and looked under the bed, but Tikki wasn’t there. Why would she have gone farther than that? “Tikki!”

“If something’s happened, we’ll find her,” Chat Noir said, rising to his feet. He offered Marinette a hand, and she let him pull her to her feet. “Come with me, my lady. I’ll keep you safe.”

“It’s Tikki I’m worried about,” Marinette muttered. “This isn’t like her. She wouldn’t just disappear like this.”

“If Hawk Moth has her, I know somewhere we should check.”

But how could he have her already? Marinette couldn’t understand that. Tikki had just been with her. She hesitated. “How?” she asked, pulling her hand away and crossing her arms. “How do you know about this?”

Chat Noir’s face fell. “You don’t trust me.”

“You lied to me.” Saying it aloud, right to his face, made it sound petty. “You kept secrets from me before and apparently you still are.”

“I just want to protect you.”

“Maybe, but my ignorance put me in danger with Mirror Image. That could happen again. So, please, just tell me first. Did Mirror Image tell you something else?”

“He made a threat,” Chat Noir said. “Hawk Moth made a promise, and he’ll make good on it if he can. I won’t risk you. Please, try to trust that I mean to keep you alive and well, above all else.”

That didn’t answer her question, but…. Marinette sighed. “You’re my partner. I want to trust you. I just….”

“Come with me, Marinette. Please. I’ll see that you’re safe. I promise.”

“Tikki—”

“I’ll find Tikki. Please?” 

He had stretched out his hand again. Marinette bit her lip but took hold of it. “Okay,” she whispered, not sure if she was doing the right thing or not. “I’ll trust you.” 

Chat Noir smiled his brilliant smile and then scooped her up as he had so often before with Ladybug. He extended his staff and then they were through the open window and out into the open air. Marinette blinked, and they were leaving the bakery behind, already propelled toward the next building. Her partner finally let her down again at her insistence, and they raced hand in hand across the rooftops of Paris, him keeping her steady as she tried to let the exertion clear her mind of worry.

-|-

Plagg could smell the cheese from outside the bakery. He lost no time in zipping through the walls, following his nose. _Camembert_. He was going to need his strength. Even Tikki would concede that if she knew the situation. 

Plagg did try to be inconspicuous once he was inside the bakery. The general populace was unaware of his kind, and it was best kept that way. It wouldn’t do for someone to be following in Hawk Moth’s footsteps.

In Adrien’s father’s footsteps.

Could this be about—?

The bell above the front door jingled, and Plagg dove for cover behind a basket of baguettes. He hovered there for a moment, making sure the humans were ignoring him, before flitting over to the cheese and seizing his prize. There was more in the back—he could smell it—but he’d have to come back for it. The bakery was busier than he’d anticipated, and there wasn’t time to go sneaking around. There was too high of a chance he’d be seen even if he kept low.

The family would live upstairs, so Plagg edged around to the stairs before shooting upward. After a few moments of searching, he heard voices and followed them, finding himself in a room full of pink and—

Plagg froze, hearing the knocking that was followed all too quickly by Tikki’s squeak. He was too late. Adrien had found them. But maybe he could still warn Tikki. Plagg threw caution into the wind and passed through the floor in a burst of magic, almost barrelling into Tikki. Her eyes widened, but she had the sense not to say anything. She took his paw and led him outside, not stopping until she’d pulled him into the foliage of a tree across the street. 

“Plagg,” she asked, “what’s going on? How are you here? Is that not—?”

“It is. And he’s going to be searching for you and me both, especially if he manages to get your Miraculous.”

Tikki’s antennae quivered violently as she jerked back. “Hawk Moth.”

“He didn’t realize he was making a deal. I’m not sure _I_ realized he was making a deal. It wasn’t…. Something felt wrong. I didn’t realize what it was quickly enough.”

Tikki frowned. “Plagg, you’re talking like you know—”

“Where Nooroo is,” he finished. “I do. We didn’t find Hawk Moth’s base, Tikki, but we found his home, and we should have realized it long before. Hawk Moth is Gabriel Agreste.”

“Gabriel Agreste?” Tikki repeated. “But I’ve been close to him. Marinette—”

“Hasn’t been as close to him as Adrien has been.”

Plagg didn’t have to wait long for the realization to sink in. “Adrien is the current Chat Noir?”

Plagg nodded. “And he made a deal with his father. Tikki, Nooroo would have answered Gabriel’s questions, so if he knew the right ones to ask, it’s no wonder we never realized it.”

“We aren’t all Wayzz.”

Plagg crossed his arms, his tail flicking in agitation. “Right. And if Nooroo’s magic was kept suppressed, we wouldn’t be able to feel it until it flared. And I did. It was _wrong_ , Tikki. We have to save him, and we have to save Adrien.”

“And Marinette.” Tikki turned to look back at the bakery, at the place that had become her home since they’d been called out. “She doesn’t know.”

“I told Adrien to tell her, but—” Plagg broke off as Adrien, disguised as Chat Noir, appeared with Marinette. She didn’t appear to be in distress—Tikki must have made the same assessment as she didn’t let out more than a squawk of shock—but even before the two took off, Plagg knew what was happening.

Tikki could figure it out, too. “He’s taking her to his father. To Hawk Moth. But their Miraculous is nothing without us.”

“You know they aren’t nothing,” Plagg said softly. “Tikki, I don’t want to be bound to him. I belong with Adrien.”

“It’s easy to take an inactive Miraculous.” Tikki’s eyes were still tracking the disappearing figures of Marinette and Chat Noir. “He doesn’t have to take her.”

“It’s the fastest way to you,” Plagg pointed out. “You’ll go after her.”

“I won’t be alone,” Tikki countered. “I have you.”

“We’ll have Wayzz, too, if we only get him. We know where they’re going. Adrien will take her to his home. He’ll want to keep her safe.”

“Wayzz would not appreciate seeing Master Fu in the field after so many years,” Tikki murmured, voicing the same thought Plagg had had earlier. “We can’t risk the Guardian.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to wake one of the others.” He knew even as he said it that she wouldn’t agree—he’d already ruled it out earlier—but he was hoping she’d be able to come up with a better plan. She was good at that sort of thing.

Instead, she chastised him, which she was unfortunately prone to doing. “It isn’t your place to make that decision, Plagg. Nor is it mine.” She closed her eyes, as if it pained her to speak. “We have to trust that Wayzz will know of the situation. Even if we had time to enlist his help, which we haven’t, I’m not sure we can risk it. We must do this by ourselves.”

“That’s what Hawk Moth wants.”

Tikki opened her eyes. “You already made this choice, Plagg, when you chose to find me instead of Wayzz. Hawk Moth must never discover all the Guardian knows. We must protect the secrets of the past, and we must protect those to whom we are bound now. Hawk Moth may have set a trap for us, but that doesn’t mean he’ll catch us. Tell me what you know, and we’ll figure this out.”

-|-

Once she realized where they were headed, Marinette tripped over her own feet and would have pitched off the roof had Chat Noir not had a firm grip on her hand. “This is Adrien’s place!” Chat Noir had already turned to face her—she’d forced him to stop—and Marinette turned red. “I mean,” she said, desperately trying to recover, “what possible reason is there to look for Tikki here?”

The grin returned to Chat Noir’s face. Just like earlier, something about it didn’t look quite right. “Don’t you trust me, Purr-incess?”

She’d almost talked herself into it before, but she was really starting to wonder about that now. “But the Agreste residence….” How could she form a protest when she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say? “It’s not…. You said you knew somewhere we could look for Tikki.”

“I said I knew somewhere we should check for information if Hawk Moth had her,” Chat Noir corrected. The grin didn’t soften, but more amusement seemed to enter it. She couldn’t find any play on words, he hadn’t made some awful pun, but he looked as if he had.

“Why do you think we need to look here?” Marinette squeaked. What if Adrien was actually _home_? What could she possibly say to him? What did _Chat Noir_ plan to say to him? Was she going to make a fool out of herself in front of both of them?

“The Agreste family has connections,” her partner replied simply, “and connections might show us patterns or give us answers or help us to do what needs to be done.” True amusement bloomed on his face now, and he added, “I plan to do what needs doing, my lady, even if leaping before I look means I lose one of my nine lives in the process.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You don’t have nine lives.” But she didn’t protest when Chat Noir picked her up again and boosted them over the gap and onto the rooftop of the manor, and she didn’t protest when he opened an unlocked window and ushered her into an en suite bathroom.

When she left the bathroom and entered the room beyond, she was first taken aback by its sheer size. But then she recognized the neatly made bed, the posters surrounding her that proclaimed various tournaments and accomplishments, the computer desk on the far side of the room piled with textbooks and schoolwork, and her voice died entirely. She managed to make a strangled sound in the back of her throat.

Chat Noir glanced at her. “Adrien’s not here right now,” he said, as if that made the blatant intrusion of privacy better.

“That’s not—!” She wasn’t Ladybug right now. She had no reason to be in Adrien’s room. She had enough trouble forming words when she had a perfectly legitimate excuse to run into him, but if he found her _here_? “We can’t—! What were you thinking?”

“I know Adrien,” Chat Noir explained. “He’d want to help us. We can talk to his father and see if he knows anything about Tikki.”

“Or about Hawk Moth?” That’s what Chat Noir really meant, Marinette realized. Gabriel Agreste had power, perhaps power on par with that of Mayor Bourgeois himself. Alya would not be the only one looking into Ladybug and Chat Noir and every villain they stopped attacking Paris. Like the mayor, Gabriel Agreste had a vested interest in seeing that Paris’s heroes were successful. He was very much in the public eye, and he needed to keep his son safe, his staff safe, his company running smoothly. It was very likely that he was doing what he could behind the scenes to ensure everything went well, and that would require him to be gathering information.

“Yes,” Chat Noir admitted.

Marinette swallowed. “Okay. But I don’t…. Hawk Moth might find us in the meantime, and….” She felt ill even considering the possibility, but she had to. Hawk Moth would be looking for her, and it likely wouldn’t be long before he heard that she was asking questions. He’d be able to find her much more quickly then. “I need to hide my Miraculous.” She had once thought to give her earrings to Alya. As long as they were passed to someone she trusted, she shouldn’t feel so uneasy about the whole thing.

Except she did. Even though it was Adrien, even though she was sure he wouldn’t do anything worrisome, even if he wouldn’t realize the value of what they were—assuming he even found them—it made her stomach twist. 

Chat Noir didn’t argue or try to talk her out of this, which made Marinette feel a little better about the decision. She didn’t like making it; if she found Tikki again, she wouldn’t be able to transform. But she didn’t want to hand Hawk Moth her Miraculous if he managed to find her, especially if he’d somehow already gotten his hands on Tikki.

But if there was an akuma targeting her specifically, one who was the reason behind Tikki’s disappearance, she wouldn’t be able to do anything without Tikki anyway.

Marinette’s hands still shook as she removed the earrings. Without Tikki around, they stayed black and inconspicuous. She’d wondered if Tikki would somehow be drawn to them anyway, despite whatever distance was between them, and wasn’t sure she could find comfort in the fact that that hadn’t happened.

Maybe the difference this time was that she still wanted to be Ladybug.

“Close your eyes, kitty,” Marinette ordered. The earrings were digging into her right hand, but she clutched her fist around them harder anyway. It wasn’t enough to stop the trembling. “I need to hide these, and it’s better if I’m the only one who knows exactly where they are.”

Marinette waited to be sure that Chat Noir obliged her before circling around, looking for someplace to hide her Miraculous. Adrien’s room was so _large_. She hadn’t had time to really appreciate that last time she’d been here. It had two levels, a dizzyingly high ceiling, an arcade and a library and—

“Should I just take a cat nap while on my feet?”

“I’m not taking that long,” Marinette shot back from her place in front of the bookshelves on the second level. She stood to the left of the fireman’s pole and stretched up on her tiptoes to pull a copy of Machiavelli’s _The Prince_ off the far end of one of the middle shelves. It was a thin hardcover, too small for her to slip the earrings into the spine but short enough in depth that it was difficult to tell at a glance that she’d used it to push her earrings to the back of the bookshelf.

Marinette spun down the pole, her feet hitting floor with a quiet thump. “Okay, kitty. I’m ready.” Well, she was as ready as she was ever going to feel. She wasn’t sure what to ask or how, exactly. She doubted she could lie very easily to Adrien’s father, but for all she knew, her partner was wrong and Gabriel Agreste wasn’t even home right now. “What should I say?” she asked, looking to Chat Noir for guidance. “Who do I talk to if Monsieur Agreste isn’t here? Wouldn’t it make more sense for _you_ to—?”

Chat Noir held up one finger, and Marinette broke off. “You’ll need to stay here anyway,” he reasoned. “You’ll be safe here while I look for Tikki.”

As much as she hated to admit it, she would be safer here than at home. Hawk Moth wouldn’t have reason to look for her here, unless he’d managed to track her flight with Chat Noir, and even if he had, the security at the Agreste residence was excellent. She would see any threat coming, even if she couldn’t explain to anyone else why she seemed to be the target.

Marinette took a deep breath, let it out, and nodded. “Okay.” She still had no idea what she’d say to Gabriel Agreste—assuming he was home. What if he wasn’t? What if he wasn’t and Chat Noir decided to take her to Adrien instead? What if, by saying Adrien wasn’t here, Chat Noir had simply meant _not in the room_ and not _not home_? “Lead on, kitty cat.” No. Surely not. If M. Agreste wasn’t here, Chat Noir would take her to Nathalie Sancoeur. She would know more about everything than Adrien. Or maybe—

Marinette turned her head, sure she’d seen movement through the window out of the corner of her eye. Chat Noir, who was saying something she should probably have been listening to instead of fretting, didn’t seem to notice—or if he did, he didn’t think it important. Maybe it had just been a bird. A pigeon. Paris was full of them, as their run-in with Mr. Pigeon had unfortunately emphasized.

Chat Noir opened the bedroom door for her and gave an elaborate bow, complete with a full sweep of the arm. “After you, my lady.”

Marinette took one more glance over her shoulder, but nothing moved outside the window. She was being silly. It must have just been a bird. She wasn’t in the right mindset to become one of Hawk Moth’s victims, not now. It hadn’t been a butterfly. It _couldn’t_ have been.

But now, without Tikki and without her Miraculous, she felt much less like the Ladybug she knew she could be and much more like the fly who had just been invited to walk into the spider’s parlour.

She was being utterly ridiculous, of course. If anything, Chat Noir had toned down his usual flattery given the seriousness of the situation, and if there was a chance M. Agreste had any information at all, she would be a fool not to seek it. She wasn’t walking into another trap. She was just on edge after everything that had happened. After the _last_ trap she’d walked into, when her partner hadn’t really been her partner at all, and she hadn’t noticed.

When Marinette still hesitated, Chat Noir straightened up. “ _Feline_ nervous?” he joked. “You don’t need to be. Even if we have to spin a good yarn about why you’re here, you’ll be able to needle Monsieur Agreste for information. Once you get the conversation onto the right thread and _sew_ some common ground—”

Marinette huffed, but she could already feel her lips trying to twitch into a smile. Now it sounded like he was making up for lost time, but the quick flare of annoyance she’d felt actually relaxed her. He’d known exactly what he was doing; he’d tried to make her feel more comfortable about this situation. She should thank him. “I’m not going to pester one of the most successful fashion designers in the city, Chat Noir. I don’t want to get thrown out before I have a chance to explain myself.” However she was going to do that.

“Well, at the very _yeast_ , I can tell him about the last time I fought alongside the brave baker’s daughter, without even _kneading_ to embellish anything.”

Since she actually appreciated the offer, she let his recent wordplay slide. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” She walked out of the room— _out of Adrien’s bedroom_ —and paused when Chat Noir didn’t immediately follow. She shot him a teasing smile; the only way she could repay him for making her feel comfortable earlier was to be as much like Ladybug without her mask as she could be. Marinette might be afraid, but Ladybug could be confident _despite_ that fear, and that was the side of herself Marinette needed right now. “Aren’t you coming?”

But it still felt like a mask, that confidence. It always had. And it was harder to slip into place without her real mask.

She tried to put whatever she’d seen out of her mind, but she was as successful on that front as she was when it came to shaking the feeling that something about this entire thing was a bad idea—and not just because she might run into Adrien when she hadn’t planned it. 

The truth of the matter was, she’d thought she’d have more time. She hadn’t thought Hawk Moth would be able to come after her so quickly, let alone capture Tikki. She thought she’d have time to sort through what had happened with Chat Noir, to prepare for whatever Hawk Moth threw at her, but she didn’t. 

Still, she’d gotten used to thinking on her feet. She could do this, even if she didn’t know exactly what he was planning or who he’d sent after her this time. He might have taken Tikki, but he didn’t have her Miraculous, and he hadn’t gotten to Chat Noir. She’d be safe, just like her over-protective partner had promised.

Marinette hadn’t quite managed to wrap herself in the illusion of safety before Chat Noir leaned casually over to her and whispered, “We’re being followed. When I say so, run.”

Marinette’s heart, which was already beating faster than normal, picked up speed, but she managed not to miss a step as she and Chat Noir continued down the corridor. “I don’t know where I’m going,” she hissed.

“Last door on your left,” came the response.

“But I can’t just go barging in. I don’t—”

“You can do whatever needs doing,” Chat Noir interrupted. “I am. Anything to keep you safe.”

One of Chat Noir’s hands had already swung back to grab his baton. Marinette knew it was too late before the protest had even formed on her lips, and then Chat Noir shoved her forward with a shout to run and turned to face the threat behind them. She did the only thing she could right now: she ran. If she had any hope of freeing Tikki, she couldn’t get captured now.

“Marinette!”

Marinette’s steps faltered and she looked behind her even as Chat Noir hollered at her to keep going. Had that been Plagg’s voice? But it couldn’t have been, not when— “It’s an illusion!” Chat Noir yelled. “Keep going!”

An illusion. Of course. Someone else had become an illusionist, as if Mirror Image hadn’t been bad enough. What better way to make her second guess everything she saw? Hawk Moth knew all about their Miraculous; it shouldn’t surprise her that he knew about their kwami, too.

Marinette pressed forward, ignoring the pleas behind her, and threw herself into the room on the left at the end of the hall.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! Thanks to everyone who's been reading, and an extra thank you to those who take the time to comment. I appreciate your support!

Despite the intrusion, Gabriel was able to keep a smooth face as he looked over at the girl who had tumbled into his study. Even before she’d straightened up, he’d known her to be Ladybug. Not transformed, no, but that was better for him. It meant he wouldn’t need to be transformed to take her Miraculous, either. Chat Noir had done well.

Nooroo had hidden himself away at the first shout, and he knew what the consequences of interfering now would be, so Gabriel did not fear that the foolish kwami might give him away. Instead, he stood smoothly, folding his hands behind his back and waiting.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the Ladybug of Paris, cleared her throat, smiled nervously, and extended one hand. “Please forgive my abrupt arrival, Monsieur Agreste. My name is Marinette. I’m one of Adrien’s friends, but you might remember me as the girl who designed the hat that won your fashion contest at Collège Françoise Dupont?”

He didn’t reach to take her hand, and she eventually lowered it uncertainly. “Adrien is unavailable right now,” he said. He was studying her now, and she shifted from foot to foot, not certain what to make of his gaze. She almost shrunk away entirely, nothing like the Ladybug he knew.

Worse still, she was not wearing any earrings.

She did not have her Miraculous.

And she was certainly not acting like Chat Noir had already taken it from her.

“I actually came to speak to you,” she said in a rush, nearly tripping over her tongue in an effort to spit out the words. “I wanted to ask you about Hawk Moth, the one Ladybug and Chat Noir are always fighting.”

It took more effort for him to keep a straight face now, but to Marinette’s knowledge, Gabriel Agreste had no reason to scowl at that implied question. Adrien might not have the power to fight the akuma, not once the deal was made, but it seemed he could still make things difficult. He had delivered Ladybug, yes, but he had not delivered the Miraculous or the kwami. He had merely delivered the girl and assured that Gabriel would not be able to transform and guide the situation along without giving away his own secret.

“I was under the impression,” he said stiffly, “that Ladybug and Chat Noir routinely fought different villains.” The good deeds they did or the general riffraff they attended to had nothing to do with him.

Marinette’s eyes flicked toward the very chair in which Adrien had sat earlier, but he did not offer it to her. “They do, but you remember what happened with Stoneheart. When they fought him the second time, Hawk Moth announced himself.” She raised her eyes to look at him squarely, suddenly looking more like Ladybug than she had before. “You are a businessman, M. Agreste, and his actions threaten your livelihood. I’m sure you’ve taken precautions.” 

Gabriel pursed his lips. “Take a seat,” he said, finally gesturing to the chair. Marinette sat, looking at him expectantly, and he returned to his own chair. “You believe I am actively fighting this Hawk Moth alongside Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

Marinette shook her head. “Not in so many words. You have felt his magic yourself, M. Agreste.” She was speaking of the incident with Jackady, of the gamble he had taken that had led to all of this. “Even Ladybug and Chat Noir have fallen prey to it. They may triumph in the end and reverse the damage done, but they can’t reverse _everything_. People are still haunted by what they’ve seen, what could have been or nearly was, and time can’t be regained.”

Time was not the only thing that couldn’t be regained. At least, not without the power of both the Earrings of the Ladybug and the Ring of the Black Cat.

Gabriel leaned forward slightly in his chair. “And what is it you believe of me, Mlle Dupain-Cheng?”

“I believe you’ve had the means to discover more about Hawk Moth than most people in this city,” she replied. “I believe you value your employees and your company enough to ensure, as much as it is in your power to do so, that they do not suffer as much from the attacks on Paris. I believe you’re doing much more than you seem to be on the surface, and…and I believe you can help me.”

His company might not have been the centre of an attack, but that was not for the reasons Marinette was suggesting. He was willing to take a material loss like that in order to gain what he needed to achieve his true goal. “And how do you believe I can do that?”

“By sharing what you’ve learned. Even if you don’t think it’s of value, it might be what we need to stop him.”

“You think you can stop him?”

“Not alone.” It sounded more like a confession than a statement. “Even Ladybug can’t stop him without Chat Noir by her side. But together, yes, I think we _can_ stop him. Please. You must have gathered some information on him. I need to find him.”

Gabriel leaned back. “And why would you try to do something like that on your own?”

“Because I think he took my friend,” she answered.

Adrien might have been trying to fight against Hawk Moth, but he must not have realized exactly who he was fighting, even now. Marinette might just be the girl who was Ladybug, but the way she was now, Gabriel knew she could be very useful. He smiled. “How about we make a deal?”

Marinette crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”

-|-

Tikki dove for Chat Noir, knowing she had to distract him before he took Plagg. It would only take two little words, and Plagg would as good as be Hawk Moth’s prisoner. She’d _told_ him he shouldn’t reveal himself in front of Chat Noir, but did he listen? Of course not. He’d just insisted that Marinette, having met him, must know that Chat Noir couldn’t be Chat Noir if he wasn’t really transformed—or at least, not transformed by Plagg’s power.

But a few different words from Chat Noir’s silver tongue, and Marinette believed a lie instead of the truth. Tikki should never have let Plagg sneak ahead. He was too reckless. He was too—

Chat Noir’s baton caught her straight on and flung her into the wall, her magic too scattered for her to simply phase through anything. The impact _hurt_ , even for her, but Tikki was moving even before her vision stopped swimming. She didn’t have time to look for Plagg. While she couldn’t be caught with mere words, not by Chat Noir, she could still be caught, and they couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Tikki went for Chat Noir’s eyes, easily drawing his attention—if Plagg hadn’t escaped already, he should recognize that move for what it was—before zipping over his head and diving for his tail. He twisted to try to catch her, but she grabbed the end of the belt and evaded his swinging baton. Right. Left. Left again. Between his legs, then right, around and through and—

“It’s the Ring.”

Tikki squawked at the sound of Plagg’s voice, hesitating long enough for Chat Noir to rip himself free before she could finish her knot.

Plagg would know, of course. He knew his Miraculous better than anyone. He might even be able to feel its corruption. But how were they to—?

“Plagg.” It was Adrien’s voice. Tikki surged forward even as Plagg stayed where he was, looking resigned. “Claws o— _ow_!”

Tikki missed her mark as Plagg attacked Adrien’s face, claws and teeth bared. Even as Adrien tried to protect himself, dropping his baton as his hands flew to his face, Plagg moved. Drops of red sprang up in crisscrossing parallels on Adrien’s flesh, tracking from his bottom lip to the top of his forehead, over the protection of the mask and back to his left ear before zigzagging under his neck and around to his right cheek. Tikki went back to her knotwork. Adrien’s initial shock might have halted his words, but he’d remember them with his anger, and she had to buy them whatever time she could.

She didn’t have the strength to pull the knot tight, could hardly finish it with Adrien thrashing about, but she managed something and moved on.

The baton. It was small enough now that she could shift it. Not quickly, not nearly quickly enough, but if she could at least roll it into a very inconvenient place—

“ _Claws out_!”

Tikki didn’t look back. She didn’t have time. With no good hiding place in the hallway and Chat Noir’s eyes undoubtedly on her anyway, she snatched the end of the baton and heaved, swinging it around and letting go. She darted left. A yelp from behind told her Chat Noir had discovered the inconvenience of her knot. She picked up the baton on the rebound and swung it again. The snarl behind her confirmed Chat Noir’s mood; the lack of an immediate snap told her that his true costume—more durable than Nooroo’s imitations, however slightly—now covered his form. She was fortunate the transformation had not undone her work.

Catch and swing, catch and swing. There was no time to fumble. No time to try a door. No time to—

The baton sailed into open air, past a woman coming up the stairs. Tikki squeaked and dove through the floor, already altering her course so she’d come out near the baton. She knew Chat Noir had been having trouble moving easily—he’d have caught her otherwise—but if he got help….

A game of keep-away would only delay the inevitable. 

The baton had bounced to the base of the stairs. Tikki wedged it into a corner behind a table leg. She needed to find Marinette. Ladybug would need to cleanse this akuma, as with any other villain. Once she was transformed, her Miraculous would be more difficult to take. As another Miraculous user, Chat Noir would have an easier time of it than the others Hawk Moth had sent after them, but he would still have to fight Ladybug, and she would defend it even from her partner once she knew what was at stake.

Tikki knew which way Marinette had gone. Even without knowing how far she’d gone, it would make searching for her easier. Tikki phased through wall after wall, being sure to give Chat Noir a wide berth as she darted through the rooms. She didn’t know what he was telling the woman, but it didn’t matter. Tikki would have to treat her as another threat.

At the far side of the house, Tikki finally found Marinette. She’d surfaced beneath a desk, and she could only see Marinette’s shoes, but she knew it was her.

But she also knew that the man who was facing Marinette, the one who was speaking, was Adrien’s father. Gabriel Agreste. Hawk Moth. Nooroo’s captor.

Staying close to the floor, Tikki crept forward. Gabriel wasn’t transformed, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have power. Fortunately, his back was to her, but unfortunately, Marinette’s eyes didn’t stray from his. Despite Marinette’s occasional doubts, she could stand her ground or attack when necessary. Clearly, she thought she had some reason to fight now, if the set of her mouth was any indication.

Tikki wished she would look around, that her eyes would catch the movement, the flash of red, but Marinette didn’t look away.

More worryingly, she wasn’t wearing her Miraculous.

If Hawk Moth already had it in his possession, he was hedging his bets and playing the long game. Marinette didn’t know who she was truly facing, of course, and even if she had willingly given her earrings up to Chat Noir while believing one falsehood or another, she was not concerned over their loss. Something worried her—Tikki knew her too well for Marinette to be able to hide it—but it wasn’t her Miraculous. And if Hawk Moth intended to keep it that way, Chat Noir wouldn’t be able to simply hand it over even if he already had it.

But if Gabriel wasn’t transformed, then even if he had Nooroo’s Miraculous, he didn’t have Nooroo.

The study was too crowded for Tikki to make a thorough search while remaining inconspicuous, and she hadn’t the time for it anyway, but she needed to try. She couldn’t just leave Nooroo behind without even looking for him while knowing she might have been able to help him. Besides, he might still be able to help her.

Nooroo wasn’t likely to be far from Gabriel, so Tikki started with the desk.

She wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised that she found him within moments, tucked within one of the many cubbyholes of the desk and hidden from sight. 

Before Nooroo could do more than open his mouth, Tikki took hold of him and dragged him out of the room, much as she had when Plagg had surprised her at Marinette’s home. 

“I have to get back,” Nooroo said, trying to struggle out of her grip the moment they were in the next room—mercifully empty but for the baby grand piano and shelves of books that lined the walls around the windows. “Master won’t be happy. I’m not to leave him. I—”

“Nooroo, he has Plagg.”

Something in her voice must have gotten through to him, because Nooroo stopped trying to get away from her. Now, he looked like he was about to cry. “Plagg? But I thought you two—”

“—were dispatched to rescue you and right the balance again, yes,” Tikki cut in as she released Nooroo, “but we didn’t even know where you were until Hawk Moth targeted Chat Noir and Plagg figured it out.”

Nooroo’s antennae quivered. “I can’t go without my Miraculous. He holds the Butterfly Brooch. I can’t…. I can’t…. There’s nothing to be done, Tikki. You must go. Save yourself.”

“I’ll save you _and_ Plagg.” Tikki left no room for question in the statement. “But I’ll need your help to do it.”

Nooroo shook his head. “He’ll know,” he insisted. “I can’t. I need to get back before he notices I’m gone.”

“Ladybug is distracting him. Her name is Marinette.”

Nooroo’s wings drooped. “I know. _He_ already knows. And if he holds Plagg—”

“Chat Noir holds Plagg,” Tikki clarified, “which he’ll realize once you transform him again. Which means we need to make sure we can free him first, before you and Plagg are forced to work in tandem. Please, Nooroo. I can’t do this alone.”

“I can’t. Chat Noir will have to fight on his own. We can’t go against our master’s wishes. You know that.”

“And you know that however much Chat Noir fights, he won’t be able to defeat your magic by himself. Not once it has taken hold. Nooroo, you’ve already transformed his reasoning. If he’s fighting, he won’t be sure which side he’s fighting on. He’ll genuinely want whatever Hawk Moth offered him, and to strike it down for something that seems lesser—”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t!” Nooroo was shaking his head again, his eyes shut tight. “You ask the impossible, Tikki. You know how we are bound.”

The binds might not be visible, but they were there. They were why Nooroo could not steal away his Miraculous from a sleeping Gabriel. They were why Nooroo did not abandon his Miraculous, however temporarily, and flee to them for aid. They were why Nooroo transformed people as he did, even knowing how his magic was being used.

But even bindings such as theirs allowed for some wiggle room, some loopholes. “You don’t have to tell him unless he asks you directly,” Tikki pointed out, “and even then, you only need to answer. You don’t need to elaborate. And you’re free to try to misdirect him or imply.”

“He knows me too well now. He might not always press me, but he knows when I do not say as much as I know!”

Doubtless that was true, but— “It’s different this time anyway. Chat Noir is his son.” This wouldn’t be new information to Nooroo, but it was worth saying again. “From what Plagg said, this transformation was more like it used to be. In better times. Hawk Moth might have gotten his agreement, but—”

“Agreement is all that is required.”

“But—”

“It’s all that’s required, Tikki. You know that. Unless the contract is broken, it holds until it is completed.”

Tikki frowned. As of late, Ladybug was the one to break Hawk Moth’s contracts, removing and cleansing the akuma to reverse the magic, but she knew there was power in the terms. Hawk Moth was not above using pain to remind his victims of their deal, was not above forcing their hand if it came to that, but a deal could be broken by either party. 

“What are the terms?”

Nooroo’s wings fluttered nervously. “Which terms, Tikki? You know mine.”

“And you know which ones I mean. The contract with Adrien. What were the terms? You must know, Nooroo. It all goes through you.”

Nooroo swallowed. “Adrien agreed to accept his father’s help, given to the best of Gabriel’s ability.”

Tikki scowled. “Which includes using you.”

“And allowed him to promise his son the health and safety of those he loves. Those who are dear to _both_ of them.”

The addition was Nooroo’s best guess as to Gabriel’s intentions, and Tikki was grateful for any clues he could give her. She had spent enough time with Marinette to know about Adrien’s mother, and she had good reason to suspect who else the boy loved. She could do nothing about Adrien’s mother, so she had to hope that her suspicion was correct. 

“I have to get back,” Nooroo repeated. Tikki didn’t stop him this time, and he vanished into the next room in a flash of purple.

Nooroo may not be willing to help more than he had, but he was right; he _did_ have to get back. And she needed to find her Miraculous. She couldn’t afford to assume Marinette had simply pocketed her earrings. It was far too likely that wherever they were, Chat Noir could access them. 

She wasn’t about to accept that fate. She wouldn’t condemn Plagg to it, either. And she wouldn’t leave Nooroo behind, not now that they’d found him. She would find her Miraculous, retrieve Plagg’s, and rescue Nooroo. They knew the location of the Butterfly Brooch. Even if it didn’t feel like it, she and Plagg were closer to their goal than they had ever been before. Hawk Moth’s reign of terror would end, one way or another.

But her resolve would stand for nothing if she couldn’t keep her Miraculous out of Hawk Moth’s hands. She might not know where to find it, but a good place to start would be Chat Noir himself. It was dangerous, but he sought the same thing she did. If he knew where it was, he could lead her to it. And if he already had it….

Well, she’d find a way to get it back, if it came to that.

She had to.

-|-

The woman believed his lies. Chat Noir thought the pretense unpleasant, but as with Marinette, he knew it was necessary. It was not the first time he had lied to Nathalie Sancoeur, though despite the haze of his past, he knew he usually did so through omission. But it was something he had done before and it was something he would do again. Because he must.

He would protect her. He would protect Marinette. He would protect his father. He would protect everyone. He would not lose them. Not like he had lost his mother.

Ladybug’s kwami was proving troublesome, but after a joke about a game of cat’s cradle gone awry, Nathalie had helped him undo the knot in his tail and given him freedom, much like she had when she had quietly orchestrated the means for his flight from isolation to friendship. It was a gift he would repay. He would free her from Hawk Moth.

Hawk Moth did not renege on his deals. 

Chat Noir clung to that knowledge as he scampered down the hallway, retracing his steps in bounding leaps so that the end would come more quickly. That was more important than retrieving his weapon from Ladybug’s kwami. He wouldn’t need it, and the minimal household staff that meant he faced no more barriers; they wouldn’t dare use his baton even if they found it abandoned, and they wouldn’t question Paris’s hero. That worked in his favour. He did not have the luxury to dally when every passing moment meant he was more unlikely to accomplish his task. He cared for the staff. They, like his family and friends, would be protected, and he could do for Nathalie as she had for him. All he had to do was keep his end of the bargain.

Plagg would not like the deal he had struck. Plagg would think it the antithesis of everything they had already fought for. But Chat Noir cared deeply for many people, and none of them could be touched. Plagg was among those he loved. He would be kept safe, uninjured and healthy, even if Hawk Moth did possess his Miraculous. Chat Noir had not traded his power for his family and friends; he had traded the freedom given to him by the mask for the certainty that those he loved would be well taken care of. 

He was not handing over his power if the Miraculous could not be used without Plagg.

Things would be better this way, once the bargain was fulfilled. No one would suffer from his mistakes, from his inadequacy. Ladybug would understand in time, and his father might finally see him for who he really is. It was all for the best. It might be a rough start, it might take some time for the others to understand, but there would be no more reason to regret.

The bedroom was quiet when Chat Noir arrived. Ladybug had hidden her Miraculous here, inside Adrien’s room—inside _his_ room, even if he felt oddly distanced from that reality, from the weight of being the Agreste heir—and all he needed to do was retrieve it and present both the Earrings and the Ring to Hawk Moth.

Chat Noir was not sure what would become of Ladybug’s kwami. He did not know Tikki—he’d only seen her for a second or two before Ladybug had transformed—and he doubted Hawk Moth would be swayed by arguments for her safety as well. The contract could not be altered once it was agreed upon. 

Still, an unpleasant twisting feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. Was he being too selfish by valuing the safety of some over the safety of others? He had not promised to present Tikki with the Miraculous, though he knew that was what Hawk Moth desired. But if she kept trying to interfere, to stop him from realizing what must be, then he would have no choice but to capture her. He _would_ uphold his end of the deal. He would do this for all those he loved.

The strength of his resolve deadened his doubt and he strode into the room with the confidence that all was right. He closed his eyes and stood still when he reached the spot where he had stood while Marinette had hidden the Earrings of the Ladybug, recalling what he had heard then.

_“I’m not taking that long,”_ she had insisted in answer to his question. The reply had come from behind him. Not from the resonating confines of the washroom, not that far, because it had been followed by the scuff of a book, the squeak of flesh on metal, the soft thump of Marinette’s feet hitting the floor. He could not recall the sound of her footsteps before she’d reached the pole. He was confident of that despite the lightness of her feet and the sturdiness of the room’s build.

She’d hidden her Miraculous in his library, somewhere amongst the volumes on the second level by the fireman’s pole.

He just needed to find it.

Chat Noir opened his eyes and smiled, leaping smoothly to the second level and examining the bookshelves. He would find some trace of Marinette’s presence, and then he would find her Miraculous. He wouldn’t fail. He wouldn’t break the deal. He depended upon it too much to give up the fight now.


	10. Chapter 10

The hallway was empty. Chat Noir hadn’t retrieved his baton, either. Tikki zipped from room to room, keeping just below ceiling height, until she finally tracked him down. Adrien’s room was now strewn with books tossed carelessly to the floor. She might not be able to see her Miraculous, but if he was still looking—

“I told Marinette,” Tikki announced. She didn’t usually lie directly, but these were far from the usual circumstances.

Chat Noir pulled down two more books, shaking them out before dropping them to the floor and reaching up for more. He didn’t turn around to look at her.

“She knows you aren’t who you seem to be.”

“I am exactly who I seem to be. I am her partner.” More books thumped to the floor, and the next pair revealed a glint that made Tikki’s breath catch. _Her Miraculous_.

“You aren’t.” She dared dodging closer, determined to catch Chat Noir’s attention but wary enough to keep her pattern unpredictable. Fortunately, he turned to her rather than to the examination of the now-empty shelf. Almost empty, except for the earrings tucked at the back. “Ladybug’s partner would never do this.”

Chat Noir laughed. “This isn’t the first act of treachery I’ve committed today.”

“Maybe not,” Tikki allowed, watching his hands as much as his face because she wasn’t far out of striking distance, “but the first was a farce and this is the result of a suggestion you aren’t able to fight.”

Something in Chat Noir’s smile was sinister. “Only two betrayals? You don’t know nearly as much as you think.”

It was two betrayals she could count, this and the plan to give up Ladybug to Hawk Moth, but if he counted more—how he had turned against Plagg, against her, against the people of Paris who counted on him to protect them—then that worked in her favour. It meant Adrien was fighting, even if he didn’t realize it. 

She just worried he didn’t know which battle he was fighting and, in the end, would find himself lashing out simply to fight, to survive. Nooroo’s magic was such that, upon agreement, he would believe that what he was doing was right. Logic could be twisted easily, ideas planted and actions manipulated, but that didn’t mean instinct was completely overwritten. With enough free reign—which Chat Noir must have, given that Hawk Moth wasn’t active—Adrien, the _real_ Adrien, could fight back. And perhaps he was already, even if he wasn’t strong enough in his convictions to shift the certainties set in place by Nooroo.

“Nor do you,” countered Tikki, “if you believe these actions negate everything you’ve done before. You needn’t see this through. There’s time enough yet to stop.”

“I won’t condemn those I love.”

“But you’d condemn the innocent you don’t even know?”

Chat Noir had started to turn away from her, one hand reaching up to do a final sweep of the shelf, but her words caused it to freeze. Without meeting her eye, he said, “I’ve made many mistakes. This is not one of them.”

“Are you willing to wager lives on that?”

Chat Noir snarled and lashed out at her as he turned back, but Tikki was faster. She had been expecting it for a while now, so she was flying out of his reach before his arm was even halfway through the swing. As she’d hoped, he followed her, leaping from the second level to the couch below in a desperate attempt to catch her. She changed direction midflight, reaching the bookcase and snatching her Miraculous before he’d recovered. 

She couldn’t phase through the wall with her Miraculous, but a pair of earrings was far easier to carry than Chat Noir’s weapon had been. She was still able to dodge him as he tried to leap into her path from the rock climbing wall, and she slipped beneath the bedroom door before he found his feet again. Her size and her speed were her best advantages right now, and she wasn’t going to squander either.

-|-

Marinette closed the door to Gabriel Agreste’s study and stood in the hallway for a moment to compose herself. Chat Noir was nowhere to be found; doubtless, he was chasing after the Illusionist—or whoever the newest threat had declared themselves to be. She couldn’t see anything out of place, but Chat Noir would’ve tried to take the fight outside, away from her and the Agreste family, in order to give them a modicum of protection. And to give her time to find Tikki.

Not that she felt like she was any closer to that now.

Marinette bit her lip, wishing she didn’t still feel so uneasy. It wasn’t that the meeting with M. Agreste hadn’t gone well, per se, but she wasn’t…. Something just didn’t feel right. She knew she should trust her instincts—she’d been ignoring them far too often recently—but she missed having Tikki as her sounding board. 

Marinette finally caught sight of Nathalie down the hallway, kneeling to get a closer look at what appeared to be torn wallpaper. Marinette winced in spite of herself, knowing how sharp Chat Noir’s claws could be even when he didn’t use Cataclysm. But if she could rescue Tikki and transform, she should be able to reverse the damage once she captured the akuma. If she happened to be terribly lucky, this akuma had been dispatched early on, even before they’d gotten out of the catacombs, and the gaping hole Chat Noir had left would be repaired, too. As far as she knew, the spell would repair anything she, Chat Noir, or the villain damaged, regardless of when that damage had occurred, as long as it was within the time frame that the akuma had been released.

Once she found Tikki, she’d have to ask how far she could push the boundaries.

Nathalie straightened when she saw Marinette approaching. “Chat Noir brought you,” she said before Marinette could explain. “I’ve been informed that you’ll be spending some time with us. I’m afraid Adrien is not here, but I can show you to a guest room and you are welcome to remain there.”

It was somewhat of a relief to have Nathalie confirm Adrien’s absence, even if Marinette knew he had nothing regularly scheduled. Perhaps he was finally able to spend some time with Nino. Still, a part of her wished she could have at least used this as an excuse to spend time with him—she might be able to speak without tripping over her own tongue then—even though she knew it was better this way. She would have had a hard time focusing on finding Tikki if Adrien were around.

“Thank you, Mme Sancoeur,” Marinette murmured, following a step behind Nathalie as the other woman began to lead her down the corridor—back in the direction of Adrien’s room, she noted absently. She doubted Chat Noir would have stopped to chat; M. Agreste must have already passed on the news of her presence and given Nathalie her orders. Marinette wished she could have been more forthright about her reasons for being here, but it was difficult to strike a balance between honesty and secrecy when—

Marinette blinked, but the flash of red she’d seen didn’t go away, although it did dart to one side and peek out at her from behind a vase.

Tikki.

_It was Tikki_. 

Here. Now. With her. And it would only take a couple of minutes to get her Miraculous back. She’d just need to be sure Nathalie didn’t see her sneaking into Adrien’s room, and—

Except it couldn’t be Tikki. The real Tikki wouldn’t know where to find her, but the Illusionist—or whatever his name was—would know she was here. Hawk Moth would know she was here. They’d tried to fool her with Plagg; now, they were trying to catch her with Tikki.

Marinette held her breath and tried not to stare at the spot in which the illusion was hiding as she walked past. 

“Marinette.” The illusion barely breathed her name as it zipped up to follow her, careful to keep out of Nathalie’s sight. “We have to go. You need to transform!”

It sounded like Tikki. That wasn’t fair. The illusions shouldn’t be able to talk and tempt her. That made everything so much _harder_. She hadn’t thought Hawk Moth would be able to convey so much to the Illusionist, but the level of detail was impeccable. Still, the real Tikki would mark the absence of her Miraculous instantly. This one merely wanted to steal it from her, to find out its location, and obviously hoped she’d lead it right to her earrings.

Marinette kept walking, ignoring the slight tug on her pigtail and keeping her eyes on Nathalie’s back. 

“Chat Noir needs your help,” the illusion insisted. “He can’t do this without you.” And while that part was true—Chat Noir would need her to cleanse the akuma—she didn’t like the implication that Chat Noir wasn’t able to handle himself in a fight. He was. He’d proved as much to her again this afternoon and plenty of times before that. And Tikki knew that.

Nathalie turned to open a door, and Marinette felt a sudden rush of air as the illusion dove for cover. She hadn’t thought it would actually be solid, something able to displace the air like that. She’d imagined it would be more like a hologram. Something that had mass…. That would make her job harder. It would make Chat Noir’s job harder, too. 

“You can wait here,” Nathalie said, gesturing inside, and Marinette nodded her thanks and went in, knowing she couldn’t just wait there. If she couldn’t find Tikki right away, well, maybe she could at least help out Chat Noir as herself. At the very least, she should make sure he knew the illusions could be solid. It was something that was normally just an easy call away, but without her yo-yo….

Nathalie closed the door once Marinette assured her she’d let her know if she needed anything at all, and the illusion shot up in front of her nose. “Marinette!” it cried. “We can’t afford to wait!”

It was holding a pair of earrings.

For all Marinette knew, playing along with the illusion would force her to succumb to it. She hadn’t seen the Illusionist in action; she didn’t know how he (she?) operated. Would engaging with the illusion only cost her time or would it capture her, forcing her to believe the illusion real? Would she have no more willpower than anyone controlled by the Puppeteer, Jackady, or Princess Fragrance if she played along? Playing along would buy her time, and she might be able to fool Hawk Moth, but could she afford—?

“Marinette, you must become Ladybug,” the illusion pleaded. “Hawk Moth is controlling Chat Noir, and he’s already managed to recapture Plagg. We have to stop him. Plagg said the akuma is in his Miraculous.”

Of course he would. This version of Tikki would surely want her to fetch Chat Noir’s Miraculous so that it could be turned over to Hawk Moth. He had already tried to use Chat Noir to get her Miraculous; now, he wanted to use her to attain his. But maybe playing along wouldn’t force her to surrender control of her senses; Hawk Moth wouldn’t have made sure the Illusionist’s work was so good if he already had that guarantee, that a simple acknowledgement would give him control over another victim. 

If he thought he needed to continue to fool her, then maybe she was safe in addressing this Tikki, and maybe she could use her to get closer to Chat Noir and warn him.

It was a risk, but at least if she _did_ fall under Hawk Moth’s control, Chat Noir would rescue her as she had him, and Hawk Moth still wouldn’t instantly have control of her Miraculous. If she was meant to believe she was already transformed, she wouldn’t have reason to go back and get her true Miraculous.

Still, the earrings were more than a reasonable facsimile. Like Tikki, the illusion was flawless.

Marinette took a deep breath and decided to play along, holding out one hand for Tikki—not-Tikki—to give her the earrings. “We need to be careful. I’m not sure where all the cameras are.” No one had seen fit to enlighten her on that front, but neither Chat Noir nor M. Agreste would have thought they had reason to. “And if the akuma is hiding in the Miraculous, how are we supposed to destroy it? Removing his ring will reveal Chat Noir’s identity.”

Tikki gave her the earrings without being prompted, and Marinette put them on. They felt real enough. 

“Eventually, yes,” Tikki allowed, “but we haven’t a choice now. I know I told you no one could know your identity, and Plagg would have told him the same, but better to have him known to you than to hand Hawk Moth the Ring of the Black Cat.”

It sounded like Tikki. It probably wasn’t too far of a stretch to know that they had been warned about keeping their identities a secret, but….

Marinette frowned. “What’s going to happen to Plagg?”

“He’ll be released when the Miraculous is removed,” Tikki said, giving Marinette a look that told her she should know this already. Which she did. Just….

“Won’t destroying the ring hurt him?” A horrible thought occurred to her. “Can we even destroy it in the first place?”

For the first time, the Tikki illusion hesitated. _Got you_ , Marinette thought as the pseudo-kwami answered, “That’s where it’s going to get tricky.”

Marinette didn’t need to fake her frown. “How tricky? Some of the Lucky Charms I get—”

“That won’t work this time,” Tikki interrupted. “Not alone. You’re right, Marinette. The Miraculous can’t be destroyed. Not by you and me; Plagg is the only one with that power. In your place, Chat Noir could destroy your Miraculous, but he never would; he needs our power to create, to restore, as much as we need his to end and destroy.”

Not to mention the fact that Hawk Moth wanted both Miraculous, and he couldn’t get that if one was destroyed. She wondered how much of what not-Tikki was saying was true, but she wouldn’t know until she found and had a chance to ask the real Tikki. Still, if this Tikki wasn’t even going to pretend that they were going to destroy Chat Noir’s ring, then— “What am I supposed to do if I can’t destroy the ring to release the akuma?”

“We have to break the contract a different way.”

“How are—?” Marinette’s question broke off as Chat Noir burst into the room. He spotted Tikki and dove for the illusion with a snarl. Tikki squeaked and dodged, zipping to hide behind Marinette.

“Marinette, get out of my way,” Chat Noir demanded. There was something…darker in his voice than she expected, something that made her skin crawl.

“It’s Tikki,” she said calmly, pretending to go along with the illusion. Chat Noir knew her well enough to trust her. He must know she had a plan, even if it wasn’t a very good one at the moment.

“Marinette,” growled Chat Noir, raising his right hand, “move.”

Marinette swallowed back a sudden swell of fear. Even though there was no destructive magic swirling around Chat Noir’s hand, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the time Chat Noir had been under the influence of Dark Cupid. The time she _had_ faced destruction at his hand. The time he had leaned over her, jeering and taunting her. He’d looked full of hated then, as if something had been twisted inside him, and—

_And he looked the same way now_.

Marinette threw herself to one side, calling out for Tikki to transform her as she rolled off the bed, and by the time the burst of red had rushed over her, she was coiled in a crouch, facing Chat Noir and ready to spring as Ladybug.

“There is no Illusionist, is there?” she asked, eyes narrowed as she watched Chat Noir’s reaction.

He bared his teeth at her. “I’ve still my sleight of hand.” He watched her carefully. Without having a reason to look away, he seemed to be waiting for her to make a mistake. 

She’d been wrong. It wasn’t hatred reflected in his features; it was determination. But Chat Noir, her Chat Noir, must be fighting against whatever Hawk Moth had done to him. He still hadn’t called for Cataclysm, and she hoped that meant he didn’t want to utterly destroy her. That didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to hurt her, though, to get what he wanted: her Miraculous and Tikki.

But if the Illusionist wasn’t real, that meant what Tikki had told her was true: she couldn’t free Chat Noir from Hawk Moth’s control as she had every other victim. But what was she supposed to do if she couldn’t destroy the ring and then simply restore it again? What did Tikki mean by _breaking the contract_?

Marinette licked her lips, trying to figure out her options. She heard no footsteps echoing down the hallway; Nathalie was long gone and calling for her would only put her in danger. But Chat Noir, she noticed, didn’t have his baton, and if Tikki had managed to find her Miraculous before he had, then she and Plagg hadn’t acted in vain. They’d merely done their part so Marinette could do hers and finish this.

Somehow.

“Think about what you’re doing, kitty cat,” Marinette said carefully as she rose to her feet. She planned on slowly making her way to the window which covered much of the far wall. At the very least, she needed to get out of this corner. “Do you really want Hawk Moth to have our Miraculous? He’ll destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to save.”

“You know nothing of what he wants.” The words were spoken with cold conviction, not snapped in anger. She wasn’t going to be able to goad him into making the first mistake.

“And you do?”

“Let’s just say we aren’t as different as I’d always assumed.”

“You aren’t alike, kitty. You’re far stronger than he is, and you—” Marinette broke off as Chat Noir suddenly _moved_ , flashing forward to close the short space between them in the blink of an eye. She wasn’t as ready for him as she’d thought, and his claws gouged four deep lines along her right cheek.

Pain flared as she let herself collapse and roll away— _towards the window_ —before he could pin her down. “This isn’t you!” she insisted, jumping to her feet and unfastening her yo-yo. “You’re better than this. You’re my partner, kitty. I should have never doubted you before. I can trust you, and now you have to trust me. Please.”

“Trust you?” Chat Noir was eyeing the spinning shield of her yo-yo as if wondering how best to stop its momentum, even though he knew very well it was strong enough to cut through metal. “This isn’t about trust, Purr-incess. It’s about treachery.”

“If this were just about treachery,” she said softly, “we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. Please, Chat Noir. On some level, you must recognize what’s been done to you. You aren’t thinking clearly. Hawk Moth is controlling you. He’s _using_ you.”

“He’s not using me. We simply want the same thing.” He began circling her, and she steadily turned on her heel to match his movements, knowing he’d take the opening if she faltered for a moment.

“You don’t truly crave destruction.” He took a step towards her, forcing her back into the corner. She should have tried to tie him up instead of shielding herself in the first place, but she’d hoped to get through to him. She wasn’t sure she could now. He could attack her the moment she changed the movement of her yo-yo. He knew all the little tells of her techniques that were hidden to the other villains they’d fought. She just….

She just had to hope that he didn’t, that there was enough of her partner left inside, fighting. She knew they could fight. She’d seen it with Pixelator and the Evillustrator. Chat Noir could fight, too.

If he tried.

If she could convince him to try.

“Destruction was never the goal.” 

“Isn’t it? If Hawk Moth gets our Miraculous, he’s going to destroy us. He’ll destroy our city, our—”

“As I said, Ladybug, you know nothing if you think _destruction_ has always been the end.” 

She flinched back at the harshness in his tone, and her yo-yo jumped in its spinning, slowed, and settled into swinging as a pendulum. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. She knew she was leaving herself vulnerable, but she couldn’t make her wrist flick to begin the deadly dancing of the yo-yo again. Chat Noir was her partner. After everything, that had to count for something.

“For the same reason I’ve done everything else.” The smirk on her partner’s face wasn’t his, not really. She could see the wrongness of it now, something she’d only sensed before. “To save the ones I love.”

He reached out one hand, slowly, gently, and she didn’t step away even though she could still see her blood glistening on his claws. For some reason, she couldn’t make her feet move any more than she’d been able to keep defending herself.

“Kitty—?”

His hand closed over her right wrist in a grip too firm for her to break but not so tight that it hurt. “I want to save the ones I love, my lady,” he whispered, leaning closer to her ear. “Does that make me a terrible person? Does that make me evil?”

“Chat—” She tried to pull away, but he was stronger than she was and in seconds had her right arm trapped against his chest. His left arm had snaked around her back to contain her other arm. He wasn’t giving her any room to move. The more she struggled, the tighter he held her. She tried going limp to slip through his grip and using his centre of gravity against him, but he seemed to be anticipating her movements because he’d adjust accordingly to counter her.

He knew her too well.

“Chat Noir, you’re hurting me.” His grip was nearly crushing her wrist now, her hand tingling from the poor circulation despite the protection of the suit. “Let me go.”

“It will all be over soon,” he murmured, his breath hot in her right ear as she turned her face away from his. “I only need your Miraculous, and then you needn’t worry about your safety ever again.”

Marinette took slow, careful breaths, trying not to shudder despite how unnerved she felt. “He’s lying to you.” What could she do if she couldn’t break his grip? Why had she let herself be trapped like this? How could she have been so foolish? “It’s just a ploy to get you to do his dirty work for him. You know that. This isn’t you.”

“On the contrary, my lady,” her partner purred, lips brushing her earlobe, “this is exactly me.” She felt his teeth rest on her ear, ready to tease off her Miraculous, and suddenly found herself fighting off tears. Her Chat Noir would never do this, not like this, and she needed…she needed to find some way….

She felt his teeth work off the front of her earring, a gentle tug at first and then a hard one when her earring didn’t immediately give, followed by a brief, sharp pain as he forced it apart. A flick of the tongue, and he’d collected the earring’s back from her ear. She wanted to scream, but it wouldn’t do her any good. While screaming would alert others—someone was surely within earshot—and might bring them running, that would only put them in danger. She couldn’t use someone else as a distraction if it meant they would get hurt in the process. 

Chat Noir would never intentionally hurt anyone, but it wasn’t Chat Noir who was holding her. Not really.

“See? This isn’t so hard.” He was trying to turn her so he could reach her other earring, but she wasn’t about to make it easy for him. She writhed and twisted, craning her neck away. He would have to release her hands to hold her head in place, and the moment he loosened his grip just enough that she could break it, she’d have a fighting chance.

Not much of one, admittedly. Her earrings were a pair, and only one wasn’t useful to either of them. Her transformation held, but she wasn’t sure for how long, and she doubted she’d be able to call on any of her other powers like this. She didn’t even know if she could trust her yo-yo to function as it usually would, let alone as a catalyst for her Lucky Charm spell.

_Break the contract_ , Tikki had said. But how was she supposed to break the contract when she didn’t even know what agreement had been made? 

Except she did know more than she had before.

Chat Noir had said she wouldn’t need to worry about her safety if he succeeded, had implied that he was doing all of this for the sake of the people he loved. 

That didn’t give her nearly enough information to act with confidence, but she couldn’t afford to wait for that now.

Marinette’s left hand could reach Chat Noir’s right, and while he was preoccupied with trying to force her head to the other side, her fingers closed over his ring and pulled.


	11. Chapter 11

The ring didn’t give. Marinette should have known it wouldn’t, not when Chat Noir’s fingers were wrapped so tightly around her wrist. But her attempt had surprised him enough that he stopped trying to turn her head, if not enough to loosen his grip on her arms.

“This is for the best, my lady,” Chat Noir insisted as he tried instead to twist her body by pulling on her arms, strategically dragging his right hand out of her reach as he did so.

Marinette tried to resist, but she wasn’t going to win in a battle of brute strength. Not against her partner. She tried not to panic as she felt the carpet sliding beneath her feet. She couldn’t remember when she had dropped her yo-yo, but he was taking her farther away from it now, inch by deliberate inch. “What could you ever hope to gain by giving up my Miraculous to Hawk Moth? By giving up _yours_?”

“I’ll gain a treasure more valuable than anything I could sacrifice now.”

She wished he hadn’t described it as a _sacrifice_ ; she could have done without being reminded of the potential deathly finality of this deal. She might make it through this, but Tikki? Plagg? If they lost the Miraculous to Hawk Moth….

“Nothing is worth—!”

“What about your family, Marinette?”

She couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of her name. It still sounded strange when she was Ladybug. “My family isn’t part of this discussion.”

“Aren’t they? Wouldn’t you sacrifice your life as Ladybug for them? To keep them safe?”

“I’m keeping them safe by _being_ Ladybug. I’m keeping them safe _from Hawk Moth_.”

“You have so far,” Chat Noir agreed, “but what about when you can’t? That day will come if this continues, you know. You won’t be able to save them and keep everything as it is. You’d have to choose what to sacrifice. That’s all I’m doing. I’m making my choice. Believe it or not, my lady, there are those I value above the freedom I get from being Chat Noir.”

Marinette frowned. “Freedom? What are you—?” She broke off and wrenched her head away as he risked releasing her left arm to grab her jaw. She didn’t have the leverage to hit Chat Noir anywhere it would do any damage; his suit would mitigate the blow, and she couldn’t reach his head. 

She grabbed his tail instead, and by some miracle, he didn’t notice.

She bided her time, waiting for the right moment to throw him off balance. 

“Don’t you find it freeing, being Ladybug?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Pity this is the only way, but you’ll understand everything once it’s done, my lady. I promise.”

“I can’t wait until everything is done,” she said. His free arm had landed on her shoulder, preventing her from moving even an arm’s length away, and she wasn’t about to bet he wouldn’t try to knock her out if it came to that.

He wasn’t thinking straight anymore.

“It’ll only take a moment once I have your Miraculous, Marinette. It’s only a small sacrifice. You were about to make it earlier anyway.”

“And you were about to trade my Miraculous for—” Marinette stopped, suddenly realizing that this was _exactly_ like it had been earlier, except that Chat Noir wasn’t playing pretend any longer.

He really didn’t want to hurt her unless he had to.

All he needed was her Miraculous.

If she didn’t wear the mask of Ladybug, she and her family would be safe from Hawk Moth. Only, the bargain must have expanded this time. _I want to save the ones I love._ She couldn’t imagine how that didn’t include Plagg, not with how she felt about Tikki, but Hawk Moth would have plenty of wiggle room when it came to the word _safe_. 

Chat Noir should know better than to fall for vague wording, but she’d never heard the tempting whisperings promise whatever she most desired when she was at her most vulnerable. She didn’t know what Chat Noir had faced, she didn’t know if she would have made a different choice in his stead, and she didn’t know if he’d thought he’d be able to resist it, to try to trick Hawk Moth again.

Whatever the truth, she needed to cut through to its heart. She needed to break his contract. He was willing to give up the Miraculous in exchange for _safety_ , whatever that meant, but if…but if one of them couldn’t be saved….

She hadn’t realized she’d stopped fighting him until Chat Noir pulled off her other earring and her transformation dissolved completely.

He fished the first earring out of the pocket of his cheek, and for the second time that day, he held her Miraculous in his hand. 

She knew without looking at his face that Hawk Moth was congratulating him. She couldn’t afford to wait. Marinette yanked on his tail to throw him off balance and then lunged forward, tackling Chat Noir with about as much grace as if she’d slipped on ice and went bowling into him. She needed her Miraculous. She’d settle for his Miraculous. If nothing else, she needed to break the contract—or snap him out of it.

Her earrings didn’t go flying, unfortunately, but she’d knocked him flat onto the carpet and landed on top of him. A crazy part of her wanted to laugh at the situation; he’d done this to her so often before, always grinning at her, always ready with a pun on his lips…. She had never entirely been sure how much of it had been intentional. “I don’t want to cut your claws, kitty,” she said, “but you need to be a little more grounded.”

It was the best she could think of, but her possessed partner was already trying to flip her over and reverse their situation. She made a wild grab for his shoulders, managed to find his neck, and pulled herself up to kiss him before her back hit the floor and forced them apart.

The kiss had barely lasted a second, hardly more than a brush of the lips compared to the last time she’d tried this, but it had worked then. “Chat Noir?” she asked tentatively, hopeful that she was reading the shock on his face correctly. All she’d needed to do was to snap him out of it. That would break the contract, wouldn’t it? It had to. He just wasn’t thinking straight. Once he had a chance to really look at the situation, he’d give her back her Miraculous and—

“Thank you.”

Marinette blinked. The apology seemed out of place when Chat Noir had made no move to get off of her or give her back her Miraculous. To be honest, she was a little surprised he knew what had happened, because last time—

“Now I have no reason to doubt my choice.” 

Chat Noir sprang up, but Marinette was frozen in place as reality sunk in. _It hadn’t worked._ He was nearly at the door before she found her feet. “Wait, kitty,” she said. She hadn’t expected him to stop, but he did, turning back to her. Marinette swallowed before saying, “I’m sorry. About earlier. You were only doing your best to save me. I was angry because of what your decision had cost me; I didn’t think about what it had cost you, nor that you were right and it had worked. Maybe it was luck. Maybe it wasn’t. But I should have trusted you, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

The smile Chat Noir gave her seemed _wrong_ , neither his usual smirk nor a genuine grin. “Be safe, Marinette.”

Marinette ran to catch up to him even as he left the room. A kiss wouldn’t break the spell, not this time, and clearly telling the truth had had no more effect. She’d worried her actions had been the reason he’d become akumatized, but even if they had pushed him over the edge, pushed him to Hawk Moth, words weren’t enough to undo it. She’d meant what she’d said, but she’d hoped her words might take away Hawk Moth’s hold.

She’d been wrong again, but she had to keep trying. She had to save Tikki. She had to save her partner. She had to save Paris.

Marinette barrelled into Chat Noir in the hallway, managing to send them both to the floor again. The tile jarred her more than the carpet had, but she was desperate. Either her Miraculous or his. She was sure she’d be able to work with Plagg if need be. He certainly wouldn’t have any reason to object to her trying to save the real Chat Noir. 

Chat Noir hissed and twisted beneath her, kicking her off. The blow took her breath away, the ache in her side making her wonder what it was like to have a bruised rib. Her head had cracked against the wall, and it took a few precious seconds for her sight to completely clear. Her suit protected her. When she didn’t have it, she noticed. She was vulnerable.

But maybe that was the key.

By the time she got her bearings, her partner was standing and looking over at her. “You can’t stop me. It’s better not to try.” 

“I always have to try.” The words came out as more of a mumble than she’d intended, but actions spoke louder than words. Marinette pushed herself to her feet, too, knowing Chat Noir would interpret the meaning, and focused on not swaying on her feet. She didn’t want to use a hand to steady herself, not now.

“I don’t want to fight you.” Chat Noir kept his voice down, and she realized he didn’t want to alert the staff. Because he had a reputation to protect? Because he didn’t want them realizing he wasn’t himself? Or because there was enough of her real partner still fighting for control that he didn’t want anyone innocent getting hurt?

“I’m not going to give you the choice.” She’d meant to say the words louder, to scream them so that someone else might hear, but her voice was still little more than a loud wheeze. 

She pushed down the pain and attacked. She just needed to break past his blocks. She just needed to get the ring off his finger. She just needed to figure out which pocket held her Miraculous.

Her nails raked uselessly against his suit, but she could still grab a limb and drag him down with her. If nothing else, she could use his tail against him. She tried not to let him get more than a few steps before she tripped him up again, no matter how much her head was pounding and her body was aching. He might not want to fight her, but she was fighting well enough to force him to do more than just defend. She knew how much he wanted to find Hawk Moth and present the Miraculous. She knew how much he—how much any akuma victim—burned with the desire to reap the promised reward.

And she knew what stalling him would do.

Finally, something in him snapped, and he snarled out the word she’d both wanted and dreaded to hear: “ _Cataclysm_!”

Marinette lay on her back, her legs wrapped around one of Chat Noir’s with her arms latched to his left, trying to force him to the ground with her. She had purposely left his right arm free, and now it hovered less than a foot from her face, deadly magic swirling around it.

They didn’t know what Cataclysm would do to another human being.

She wished now that she hadn’t decided finding out was the only way to end this.

It could kill her. She knew that. She didn’t want to die, but she also knew that she’d rather die than let Hawk Moth control their Miraculous. 

At least, she’d thought so.

Now, she wasn’t quite as sure as before.

Marinette’s heart had jumped into her throat and she found it hard to breathe.

The last thing she saw before closing her eyes was Chat Noir’s hand moving steadily closer.

-|-

_Stop!_

The voice wasn’t Hawk Moth’s, the command didn’t come from him, but Chat Noir’s hand stilled anyway, a hair’s breadth from Marinette’s cheek.

_How can you save her if you do this?_

She was stopping him from saving her. She was trying to stop him from saving everyone. If he had to make the sacrifice—

_You won’t ensure the health and safety of those you love if you destroy them!_

Marinette had once been Ladybug. She fought him now because she did not understand what he was trying to do for her, for all of them. But she believed she acted for the right reasons. That was one of the things he loved about her, her determination to do what she thought was right. She was misguided in this, but it wasn’t reason to destroy her.

He drew his hand away and let his fingers brush the frame of the painting that hung nearby, watching as it turned to ash under his touch. The portrait of the once-happy family blackened and crumbled. He was regrettably familiar with the feeling.

_“Chat Noir, you have the Miraculous. Bring them to me!”_

He was jerked to his feet by the sheer force of Hawk Moth’s will. He heard a soft exclamation of surprise from Marinette as he pivoted on his heel. He might not know where Hawk Moth was, exactly, but he could _feel_ him, and he knew he could find him. Once he handed over the Miraculous—

_You’ll lose everything. You’ll lose her. You’ll lose your father. You’ll lose Plagg._

His feet stopped moving, uncertain. He felt Marinette’s hand grab onto his ankle, but it didn’t take much to shake her off this time, even though she knew he couldn’t use Cataclysm on her, not right now.

“Why did you let me go?” she asked quietly, making no move to try to hold onto him now that he wasn’t moving forward.

_“The Miraculous, Chat Noir!”_

_No one will thank you if you do this._

“Kitty?”

_You’ll destroy her by doing this as surely as you would by using your power. It will just take longer._

That wasn’t true. Hawk Moth didn’t break his contracts; he honoured them, was bound to uphold them. As one he loved, Marinette—Ladybug—would be healthy, safe. That meant unharmed.

_It doesn’t mean happy._

_It doesn’t mean free._

His ring beeped, and he watched in sudden fascination as the first pad disappeared from the paw. What _was_ he trading with this deal? Hawk Moth would honour the contract to the letter, but he was free to act as he pleased when it came to reading between the lines. He was happy to trade away his freedom, but Marinette’s? Plagg’s? His father’s? 

_“Bring them to me_ now _!”_

Pain erupted, flaring as fire along every nerve. He screamed and dropped to his knees, hardly feeling the cool tile beneath him. He had no concept of how long it had lasted. It had been forever, an age during which Marinette had crept up beside him, put her arms around him, and tried to take away his ring. It was missing another pad now, and her arm had a new set of red lines tracking down to the back of her right hand he didn’t remember leaving. He uncurled from his tight position on the floor and stood.

He couldn’t think of disobeying. He owed it to her. He was doing this for her. To keep her _safe_.

_Then why is she bleeding? Why are bruises already forming? She is not safe. She will not be safe, no matter what Hawk Moth promises._

She would always be safe once he handed over the Miraculous. Hawk Moth could not evade honouring that part of their deal.

 _Safety is not isolation. Wouldn’t that be her fate, a dark cell somewhere far from the world in which she belongs? Far from her family? A cage made specially to ensure her_ safety _? Is that really what you want for her? For all of them?_

“Chat Noir, please.”

No. _No._ He wasn’t going to listen to this. Marinette would be safe. Plagg would be safe. His father would be safe. And Nathalie and Nino and everyone else. They would all be safe. He would keep them safe. By doing this, he would keep them safe.

And if he didn’t disobey, he wouldn’t have to feel that pain again.

His ring beeped. The third pad disappeared.

His feet started to move of their own accord, and he heard Marinette climb to her feet behind him. “The end goal might not be destruction,” she stated, “but that’s where this is headed.”

 _You were ready to destroy her,_ the treacherous voice whispered. He didn’t want to question what was right, what must be done. He knew there would be no peace for him if he did not present Hawk Moth with the Miraculous. Moreover, if he broke the deal, Hawk Moth would no doubt have his revenge. He might very well seek out those Chat Noir most wished to protect.

He kept walking.

Behind him, he heard Marinette following. He could tell from her gait that she was limping. He had hurt her. All he had wanted to do was to protect her, and he just kept hurting her, over and over.

“Are you really ready to do this?” she asked. “You seem to think you’re doing this for the people you love, but have you thought about what they would want? Would they want you to make this sacrifice for them?”

He didn’t turn back to look at her. “Sometimes sacrifices must be made.” He remembered the blackened painting, the ash that had fallen from the wall. It had been one of the few paintings of his mother that still hung where it could be seen by all. It had been a reminder of happier times.

Now it was gone.

“Chat Noir.” Marinette had caught up to him, and her hand rested on his arm. He didn’t stop, instead forcing her to keep moving. “Chat Noir,” she tried again, “you’ll be undoing everything we’ve done. Has our partnership counted for nothing?”

His ring beeped for the fourth time, and he finally stopped and looked at her. “You of all people shouldn’t need to question me. Have you thought about what I risk if I don’t do this?”

From the shock on her face, she hadn’t.

He started moving again, retracing his steps down the long corridor. He could not afford to fail; he had wagered too much on his success. She had triumphed over Hawk Moth in every fight before, but that did not mean she didn’t know the bitter taste of past mistakes, the sourness of wrong decisions, the sharp sting of loss. She could imagine what failure might mean if applied on a grander scale.

It was a failure from which he would not recover, a failure from which _none_ of them would recover.

He must do this. He had no choice. He had agreed.

And Hawk Moth, as he had clearly demonstrated, had a way of ensuring that the bargains were kept. 

“What you think is success is only certain failure!” Marinette called after him, almost as if she could read his thoughts. “The risk of succeeding is greater than the risk of failing! This won’t turn out the way you want it to. You _know_ it won’t. Not with Hawk Moth.”

Chat Noir hissed and spun back to look at her. She hadn’t moved, but she was giving him a defiant stare. “Hawk Moth and I have the same goals,” he growled. “All we need are the Miraculous, and our goals can be achieved!” He took a step toward her, and pain raced up his leg.

 _“Do not engage her, Chat Noir. She would see you fail. Just_ bring me the Miraculous _!”_

He hadn’t seen Marinette move, but suddenly she was right in front of him. “I can’t let you do this,” she said. His ring began beeping once more, the frantic final warning, and she’d grabbed his hand and tugged off the ring before he realized what she was up to.

Plagg reappeared, but his costume didn’t melt away. He still had a chance to retrieve the ring, the _real_ ring, before the magic was fully broken. After all, Marinette had no way of destroying the Miraculous, and she wouldn’t be able to cleanse the akuma if she could. She—

“He’s your father.” Plagg suddenly hovered at his eye level, zipping around to continue blocking his view of Marinette and looking _much_ more energetic than he usually did after the use of Cataclysm. “Hawk Moth is your father. This is all a trick!”

Even Marinette stopped her retreat. “What? You know who Hawk Moth is?” 

_No._ Plagg was lying. _That_ was the trick. Chat Noir lunged forward, swatting Plagg away and focusing on getting the ring back from Marinette. She was weak and injured. He might be without his power, but he still possessed those Hawk Moth had given him and would until the akuma was freed. He knew that. Which might also mean—

He risked glancing down at his right hand.

The true Miraculous was taken, but a facsimile now rested in its place.

He was no Copycat, not really, but he had a copy of his true power. And that meant he could use Cataclysm twice.

_Don’t!_

He raised his right hand, growling out the word to activate his power. Marinette’s eyes went wide. She looked for Plagg, and he took advantage of her distraction to advance. He wanted to protect those he loved. As Ladybug, she numbered among them. 

But sometimes sacrifices must be made.

He loved her, but he couldn’t afford to let her stop him. Not in this. Not again.

Ignoring the voice inside that was begging him to stop, he lashed out his hand. 

Marinette’s scream echoed in his ears as he felt the blow connect.

Something inside him cracked, and he scrambled back in alarm, filled first with confusion and then horror as he began to properly realize what was happening—what had already happened—for the first time.

_What have I done?_


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly finished, folks! Thanks to everyone who's been with me so far, especially to those who take the time to comment.

Marinette’s scream was choked off, but Adrien’s heart was beating so loudly in his ears that it hardly seemed any quieter. He felt his breath coming faster and faster, but it was like he wasn’t getting any oxygen even though he was gasping for air. Darkness spotted his vision and he tried to blink it away.

He needed to focus.

He needed to help.

He needed to…to….

He needed to take back the last five minutes. Even the last thirty seconds. _Anything_. Except he couldn’t. It was too late, and now….

 _Focus_.

Ladybug’s earrings gleamed on a black square of tile in front of him. Less than a foot away was his Miraculous, his ring, lying alone in an oasis of white.

He tried to bring himself to lift his eyes to look at Marinette, but he wasn’t convinced he could even do that. He certainly couldn’t do anything else. He’d already done so much harm already. 

He remembered his panicked flight from his home, the terror of the akuma on his tail. He remembered his desperation to find Marinette, the sickening knowledge that Plagg could only delay the akuma, not stop it completely. And then….

Nothing.

He felt fear bubble up again in spite of himself. He’d always thought the forgetfulness of Hawk Moth’s victims was a boon; they needn’t remember the horrible things they’d done while under his control. It would give them more distance, make it seem less like it was _them_. But they usually came back to themselves after Ladybug’s restoration and were only presented with pieces of the truth—testimonies of friends and family, news clips, the official article on the Ladyblog and various eyewitness accounts—while he could still see the pieces—the _remains_ —in front of him.

He didn’t know what he had been thinking, and that was terrifying. He didn’t know how easily Hawk Moth had twisted his thoughts or if they’d needed to be twisted at all. He could see the damage in front of him, but he didn’t know how wide it spread, and he didn’t know what time it was, how much time he was missing, how much he had done….

And he didn’t know how many people knew the truth.

Not that anyone would particularly want Chat Noir protecting their city now.

Not that he could even if they would accept him, even if he wanted to continue.

He abruptly realized his vision was blurred with tears. Better that than blackness; he couldn’t afford to give up now, not if there was even the slightest chance of fixing—

But how could this be fixed?

Adrien’s chest tightened even more, and he closed his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing. 

In.

_This was all his fault._

Out.

_How could he have done this, even under Hawk Moth’s control?_

In.

_He’d never used Cataclysm carelessly once he’d understood it, and now—!_

Out.

_Now his best friend was—!_

Warm fingers curled around his and squeezed his hand. “Breathe. Just breathe. I’ll…. I’ll be back in a minute.” The warmth vanished.

Adrien opened his eyes as the footsteps retreated. Ladybug’s earrings were gone. The ring remained, and he stared at the crack splintering its face. It was solid black, and that was wrong. The black ring was supposed to have the paw in the middle so he knew how much time he had left. When the green glow of the paw disappeared, the ring was supposed to become silver, and he was supposed to have Plagg.

He didn’t know what had happened. 

He could recognize the effects of Cataclysm, of course. He could guess that he had become Chat Noir, or at least copycat, and had called upon his power. He didn’t know who he had targeted. Marinette? Plagg? Or had he been aiming for something else, some strategic point for a plan now forgotten?

He wouldn’t have intended to destroy his Miraculous; Hawk Moth wouldn’t want damaged goods, and if he’d fought back, he couldn’t remember how. Surely he wouldn’t have done that, knowing the risk to Plagg. He knew Plagg was tied to the ring. He’d just…. 

Marinette hadn’t had her earrings, which must mean he’d managed to get them from her. So perhaps she’d somehow gotten hold of his ring and had worked with Plagg instead? 

It didn’t matter. Not really. She could tell him later, assuming she agreed to speak with him about it. What did matter was that his Miraculous was cracked, Plagg was…. Plagg was _gone_ , and Hawk Moth was still out there.

Adrien tried to look around, to take in the rest of the damage, but his eyes kept drifting back to the ring. It blurred to a black smudge on white, and as the lump in his throat grew in an attempt to match the hollow in his chest, he snatched up the ring and held it to his heart. Remembering Plagg, he began to cry.

-|-

Adrien had failed. 

Perhaps Gabriel should not be surprised, given his son’s other failings, but he had held out more hope for Adrien than he had for most of the others, even Mirror Image, because he understood Adrien’s drive. He had not been wrong, really. Adrien had managed to retrieve Ladybug’s Miraculous, a feat unmatched by anyone else put to the task, and he would have willingly handed over his own, but he hadn’t been able to deliver them. He had been close, but both Miraculous had slipped through his fingers. Marinette had stolen back the ring, the cat kwami had retrieved the earrings, and Adrien’s efforts to retrieve them had been outmatched.

Gabriel had underestimated what others were willing to forsake to stop him.

Nooroo’s sobs were an unwelcome reminder of the sacrifice made by the black cat kwami. The moment Gabriel had allowed his transformation to dissolve, Nooroo had collapsed to the floor, instantly inconsolable. Gabriel could not find it in himself to reprimand to the kwami. He understood the pain of loss too well for that.

Even as he stood in the middle of his locked bedchamber, trying to relax his clenched fists and steady his breathing, his own sorrow threatened to overwhelm his anger. He was staring at her portrait on the wall, remembering and—for the first time in a long time—doubting. The Ring of the Black Cat and the Earrings of the Ladybug could never be reunited now, and his best chance of reuniting with her was gone. He might never be able to save her, might never be able to share this room with her again. The Ladybug Miraculous alone wouldn’t be enough. Without the balance provided by the Cat’s Ring….

The possibility that he might never see her again seemed more real now than it ever had before. Before, he had had hope. Now….

Now it was gone, and he felt empty.

He had gambled everything, and he had lost.

By betting on his son, he had taken a risk. He had convinced himself he would reap rewards from it, that any harm would be inconsequential alongside the achievement of his goal, but now Adrien would still be without his mother, and he surely wouldn’t understand Gabriel’s actions.

He had lost her despite his best efforts, and now he had lost Adrien because of those efforts. He might not know the truth now, but Gabriel was not willing to bet that he wouldn’t find out—particularly since it was clear Ladybug knew the truth. He had tried to make a deal with Marinette, but she had sidestepped him while trying to dig for information he wasn’t willing to give her, and they’d ended at a stalemate. He had no magical hold over her, and that made her dangerous.

That was why he had moved from his study, though he had found the proximity of the Miraculous too tantalizing a prospect to move outside of the manor. His bedroom, like his study, was one of the few places where he knew he would be undisturbed. Adrien would be able to find him in a heartbeat; his friends did not have the same luxury, but that didn’t mean it would take Ladybug long to find him if he were foolish enough to wait for her.

Grieving could come later. Anger, disappointment, and the bitterness of failure would all take their turn, but right now he had to be the father Adrien needed.

“Come, Nooroo,” he ordered. He felt a sweep of magic rush over him; Ladybug had captured and cleansed the akuma. She would be after him next.

“I-I knew this was wrong, Master!” wailed Nooroo. “To have lost _Plagg_ —”

“Nooroo,” Gabriel repeated harshly. 

The kwami sniffled but this time obeyed, flitting up and sliding into the interior suit pocket Gabriel had designed for the purpose. Nooroo might find it cramped, but his presence was virtually undetectable, and that had been Gabriel’s goal all along. He’d known that if he were to succeed in his ventures, he would need to operate in secret. Assuming the identity of Hawk Moth had never been anything more than a useful mask.

It seemed incongruous to walk through the pristine halls of his home when he had glimpsed their earlier destruction; the power of the Ladybug Miraculous never failed to amaze him. It would be an invaluable asset even if it was no longer one half of the whole solution, but it would be next to impossible to retrieve now. But even without the Ladybug Miraculous, even with the Cat Miraculous destroyed, he wasn’t at the point where he must give up entirely. He just couldn’t proceed as he had before.

Gabriel moved carefully, avoiding the corridor to his study where he suspected Ladybug was searching for him. He had locked the study, but it would not have taken her long to break in. It would take her longer to search fruitlessly for clues or to quiz her kwami for more information. That would be time enough for him to do what he needed.

He found Adrien collapsed in a heap in the hallway, entirely oblivious to Nathalie’s worried presence hovering over him. She left at Gabriel’s dismissal, and he crouched before his son. “Adrien?”

Tears were streaming down Adrien’s face, and his shoulders were shaking, but his sobs were silent. He looked at Gabriel with red eyes and made a clear effort to pull himself together, although he fell short. “Father—” he tried, but his voice cracked, and the tears started anew.

“Come with me,” he said, straightening and offering his hand. Adrien’s right hand was clenched into a fist, no doubt holding the broken Miraculous, but he reached out with his left. Gabriel had to put more effort into hauling Adrien to his feet than he’d anticipated, and his son staggered slightly once he got there. 

Gabriel knew the signs, unfortunately. He put an arm around his son and let Adrien lean on him for support. This wasn’t the confusion after the abrupt breaking of Nooroo’s magic; this was the exhaustion that came with grief and despair.

He should have tried to stop Adrien. Should have forced it, frozen his body in place, the moment he’d realized what Adrien was trying to do. The boy would never have forgiven him if he’d managed to murder one of his school friends while under Nooroo’s spell. Still, Gabriel hadn’t known it hadn’t just been a scare tactic—again—or that Adrien hadn’t been meaning to trap Marinette by collapsing the floor beneath her or some such thing. All he’d needed to do was incapacitate her, keeping her in place long enough to steal back his own Miraculous and making sure she couldn’t follow him.

But Gabriel hadn’t counted on Plagg. 

He had studied kwami magic extensively. He knew how much effort the transformations took, how much energy special spells sapped. After the use of Cataclysm, Plagg should have been exhausted. Of course, he must have been, and that lack of energy had made him too slow to escape—although Gabriel couldn’t be sure being caught hadn’t been his plan. He doubted it, though. As far as he could tell, Plagg had fetched the Ladybug Miraculous from one of Chat Noir’s many pockets and had been trying to deliver it to the one he surely viewed as the rightful owner, even if the contract was temporary.

Whatever the details, it was done now. Plagg was gone and the Cat Miraculous was destroyed. One would not work without the other, and in this case, it really didn’t matter which had been poisoned by Cataclysm. In an instant, the deadly touch had broken Adrien’s contract and destroyed Gabriel’s best chance at saving his wife.

Adrien didn’t protest as Gabriel led him down the main stairs, didn’t ask about Gabriel’s brisk pace or why he kept darting glances out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t startle out of his stupor until Gabriel had eased him into a chair pulled from behind Nathalie’s desk and went to move aside the painting to access the safe behind it.

“Father?” Adrien’s voice sounded distant and small, even though he sat not five feet away. Gabriel didn’t regret taking the time to move Nathalie’s chair; he didn’t want to risk Ladybug easily separating them when Adrien was in this state.

Gabriel had the safe open in a matter of seconds. He slipped the Peacock Miraculous into his breast pocket, picked up the ancient tome and the new book on Tibet, and slid the hotel brochure beneath the cover of the second before tucking both books under his arm. He closed the safe and replaced the painting before turning to Adrien. “We need to go,” he said in a voice that brooked no nonsense.

Adrien’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t—”

“Adrien.”

Adrien broke off immediately and seemed to shrink into himself. Gabriel hadn’t meant to frighten his son, hadn’t thought that had been in his tone, but he didn’t have time for arguments. They needed to vanish before Ladybug—

“Adrien!”

The young lady in question burst into the little room, yo-yo in hand. She was lucky when it came to her timing, and not all of that luck was hers. He knew that. He’d been hoping to take some of that luck for himself, but now….

He suspected what was coming, and he laid a protective hand on Adrien’s shoulder. It was just as well he had remained seated; Ladybug was blocking the only exit. They couldn’t run until the situation changed.

Ladybug ignored the gesture. “Adrien, he’s Hawk Moth. Your father is Hawk Moth. You need to stay away from him! He’s just using you!”

“I would advise you not to speak of matters in which you are so ill-informed,” he informed her quietly, pleased that Adrien had barely shifted at her words. “Adrien is my son, and I want to do everything I can for him.”

“Adrien is Chat Noir,” Ladybug shot back, “and you _akumatized_ him!”

“Was.” Adrien’s voice was thick. “Father, I was Chat Noir. That’s why I’ve been missing so much.”

“He already knows.” Ladybug’s tone for Adrien was gentle, but it hardened when she addressed him and accused, “Don’t you? You knew he was Chat Noir. And you exploited that. You used him to try to steal both our Miraculous!”

Beneath his hand, Adrien shifted again. “Father wouldn’t—”

“Wouldn’t he?” Ladybug interrupted. “Wouldn’t he, if it meant saving his family? Saving the people he loved? That was your goal, and you told me Hawk Moth had the same one.” Adrien didn’t argue with her, and she added, “I never asked you what happened to your mother, but—”

“Ladybug,” Gabriel interjected. It was a struggle to keep his tone neutral, but he had grown practiced at suppressing his anger. He had tried to teach Adrien the same, to no avail. The boy had learned to put up masks, but someone practiced could see behind them easily and read him as if he were an open book. “Allow me to humour you for a moment. If your accusations were true, what would you propose to do about it?”

She blinked, clearly not expecting this reaction from him. That was entirely the point. She was a quick thinker, and he couldn’t allow her to keep even footing throughout this entire conversation. After a moment, she answered, “You need to stop. You failed. Plagg….” Her voice faltered, and she swallowed before continuing, “Adrien’s ring was destroyed. Whatever you had planned for our Miraculous is now beyond your grasp. Admit you were wrong, apologize to Adrien, and let me help you.”

It was ridiculous that this teenager believed herself to be in a position to lecture him, let alone _help_ him. She didn’t even know what could have been done with the Miraculous. She had no idea of its power, let alone the power that would have been granted if he’d been able to use her Miraculous with the Cat Miraculous. 

“An entertaining proposal,” he said in a tone that made it entirely clear that he was humouring her. “Now, please excuse us. I would like to speak with Adrien in private.”

Ladybug stared at him in disbelief before turning to Adrien for help. Whatever she was searching for, she didn’t receive it. He rather suspected shock was the only reason her words weren’t completely sinking in; Adrien was so wrapped up in grief that he hardly had the energy to spare to see Gabriel’s deflections for what they were, and as such they tempered Ladybug’s stinging accusations. Adrien would no doubt think the truth a horrifying prospect, but as long as it was an idea that could be explained away—

“Tikki,” Ladybug said, stepping back, “spots off.”

The girl was a fool to give up her best weapon. He wouldn’t have been able to evade her yo-yo. Her action truly surprised him, and he used it to his best advantage. “Mlle Dupain-Cheng?”

Her hands balled into fists. “Stop pretending!” she spat. “This isn’t some game. You’ve gone too far this time. You must know that.”

“I’m afraid I—” He broke off as the kwami, Tikki, shot towards him in a streak of red. He moved instinctively to protect the book on the Miraculous—she would surely recognize that—but she altered her course and dove through his chest instead.

He didn’t understand why until Adrien jerked to his feet and stumbled away, staring at him in confusion.

No, not at him.

Over his shoulder.

At Nooroo.

Nooroo, who hadn’t had time to eat and regain his energy, who wouldn’t be able to muster the strength to transform him for long enough to get him out of this even without resorting to spellbinding. Nooroo might be bound to obey him, but he was also bound to the rules of his kind. He was going to be no help now.

“Nooroo’s Miraculous is the Butterfly Brooch,” Tikki announced, moving to hover just out of his reach and dragging Nooroo with her. 

Gabriel saw the flicker of recognition in Adrien’s eyes. He had always been careful to cover the brooch with his cravat, but in a fit of exuberance well over a year ago, Adrien had forgotten himself and burst in on Gabriel while he had been tying it. Adrien would have only caught the briefest glimpse of the brooch, an obscured one at that, but something like this could bring to mind seemingly unremarkable details. 

And he’d always been trying to get Adrien to notice the details.

Adrien’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out. He still held on to the ruined Miraculous and clenched it even more tightly now, his knuckles turning white. He was trembling. Marinette waited a moment before slowly walking over to join Adrien, though she was careful to leave enough distance between them that she could still guard the entrance.

But when she wasn’t transformed, she would be relying on her inherent skills, and while she had youth on her side, he had experience. He also knew that if she did call to be transformed, he would have a second to act when she couldn’t easily counter him. Whether she’d realized it or not, there was more focus required in building the transformation than in releasing it. 

“Why?” Adrien demanded, finally finding his voice. “Why would you let it come to this? How could you let me—!” Marinette placed a hand on his arm, but he hardly let it calm him. “How could you do _any_ of this? Mother wouldn’t have wanted—”

“You never knew the entire truth about your mother, Adrien,” he answered quietly. “If you did, you would understand what drove me to this, and you would know that the destruction of the Cat Miraculous—”

“Of _Plagg_!”

“—was never my intention.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was your intention! You should have…. You could have controlled…. It shouldn’t have happened!”

He was breaking. Gabriel could see it. And it hurt him to know that he had done this to his son. 

But he also knew, given the chance to try again and see a different outcome, he would take it. He would try. He had to try. He fought for her, for their family. Sometimes distasteful decisions had to be carried out, sacrifices had to be made, to see something like this to its completion.

His failure was the reason it seemed so wrong. Had he succeeded, he wouldn’t need to wonder if Adrien would ever be able to forgive him.

“How could you do this?” Adrien’s voice was a whimper now, his anger spent. Tears had begun to make tracks down his cheeks again. “I trusted you, Father.”

He had spent the day trying to convince Chat Noir to betray Ladybug, but the greatest act of treachery ended up being how he had betrayed his son.

Adrien turned and ran from the room, and Gabriel let him go. He had come this far in his venture alone; he could continue the same way. Adrien would be happier if he left for a time, and Nathalie would take good care of him. Gabriel had no concerns about that.

Marinette made no move to stop Adrien, either, but once he was gone, she stretched out her hand. “Give me the brooch. You shouldn’t wear it.”

“I am not in the habit of giving up my best assets.”

“It’s not an asset!” she burst out. “Nooroo’s not an asset! They aren’t owned by you. Either they were entrusted to you and you betrayed that trust, or you stole them like you tried to steal our Miraculous. Possessing a Miraculous means you have a responsibility to everyone else to protect them, and you’ve been doing the opposite!”

“You have no idea—”

“I know everything I need to!” Her eyes were fierce, her body tensed for a fight as if she had no thought that she would lose. “If you love Adrien, then stop this. This isn’t the right way. Show him you’re willing to be the father he needs, and give up your Miraculous. It’s poison for you. You aren’t the right person to hold it. Let me help you find another way.” She still hadn’t dropped her hand.

Marinette’s words stung, even if he wouldn’t let her see that. He slowly reached into his breast pocket, seeing the hope alight in her eyes, and closed his hand around the Peacock Brooch. He hadn’t wanted it to come to this, not yet, but if he couldn’t—

“Master, no!”

Gabriel jerked at Nooroo’s outburst, and Marinette leapt forward, overbalancing them both despite his best efforts. She clawed at his jacket even as he released both the books and the brooch to force her off of him. He caught her right wrist before the offending hand could reach the Peacock Miraculous, but he didn’t realize until too late that the scuffle had revealed the Butterfly Brooch.

It was only once Marinette had ripped it from his breast and flung it across the room that he realized what he had lost.

He shoved Marinette away, ignoring the crack of her head against the vacated chair, and scrambled toward the Miraculous. 

He was too slow.

As he watched, Tikki reached it. He saw the colours sprout upon the brooch—the colours that indicated the Miraculous was currently inactive, that Nooroo was safely inside once more—as she picked it up and flew out of sight.

His time with Nooroo was over.


	13. Chapter 13

Tikki hugged the Butterfly Miraculous to her chest and _flew_ , slipping outside through an open window and flitting high above the streets of Paris. She was relieved that she’d been able to return Nooroo to his Miraculous without any trouble. The last time she’d tried something similar, she’d been with Plagg. She hadn’t been entirely certain she’d be able to do it alone. Nooroo would have been free to follow her, of course, as long as she still held the Butterfly Miraculous, but Nooroo was no longer used to freedom. He’d been forced to work with Gabriel Agreste for too long.

Anger wouldn’t help her now. She knew that. She didn’t have the whole story, either, and she knew that, too, but the furious part of her thought she didn’t need it. The Miraculous weren’t meant to be used for evil! Nooroo was going to carry the memory of this horror for lifetimes past Gabriel’s own.

She didn’t have the power to restore the time Nooroo had lost. She couldn’t fix this. But if she could get Nooroo back to the Guardian, then at least it would still help him.

Tikki met Wayzz and Master Fu less than three blocks from the Agreste residence. They weren’t transformed, something she put down to Wayzz’s insistence and Master Fu’s wisdom in listening, so she passed the inactive Butterfly Miraculous to its Guardian. As Master Fu’s fingers closed over it, he looked up at her. “Plagg—”

“I know,” Tikki interrupted. She shared a look with Wayzz; Master Fu should know perfectly well that she knew. He should also know that she’d felt it imperative, given the circumstances, to rescue Nooroo. If she had been able to confer with Plagg, he would have agreed.

Nooroo wasn’t the only one who was lost, but Nooroo’s powers had been misused, and saving him had always been their priority.

Marinette had only thought in terms of stopping Hawk Moth, of preventing his reign of terror before it could become fully established. Tikki had never forgotten the prisoner behind the transformative magic that had swept across the city. She understood, in a way Marinette could not, how perverse it was for a Miraculous to be used for evil, even an evil that tried to convince itself of its own good.

“Keep Nooroo safe.” It was something more of a plea than a command, but Master Fu merely smiled at her and nodded. He knew how much she worried. “I need to get back to Marinette.”

“I can help you,” Wayzz offered. “With Plagg—”

“No,” Tikki cut in. “We still aren’t certain Hawk Moth was always working alone, and we can’t afford to bet on suspicions now.” She turned her head slightly to include Master Fu in her gaze. “I saw the book. He has it. I’ll try to fetch it when this is over. I can—”

“You can only do so much,” Master Fu reminded her.

“Marinette will help me,” amended Tikki. “We will return the book.”

Wayzz frowned. “If he was able to decipher the book, even a portion of it—”

“I know.” It hardly bore thinking, but Tikki wasn’t about to dismiss the possibility—especially not when Hawk Moth had worked so hard to acquire both her Miraculous and Plagg’s. “And I know that’s why you think you should help, Wayzz, but it’s exactly why you can’t. You’re too valuable.” She didn’t add that there was little he could do on his own, for while Wayzz had an instinct for knowing when something was wrong, it was considerably less often that he could pinpoint the whereabouts of the source. 

Even now, it was more likely that Wayzz had sensed the destruction of Plagg’s Miraculous and had come to check on him and Adrien than that he had known the fight had taken place at the Agreste manor. He might have known of Nooroo’s plight the moment the Miraculous had been activated, but he hadn’t known where Nooroo was being held and hadn’t been able to sense the Miraculous until it had been activated. That was why the job had fallen to her and Plagg, to Ladybug and Chat Noir. They worked well together and had a way of combating Nooroo’s power. Wayzz and Master Fu, whether alone or transformed, did not stand as good a chance. 

It was not merely Master Fu’s age. It was not simply the risk of losing the remaining Miraculous if their Guardian fell, either, great though that risk was. It was the fact that a task like this was never best suited to one hero alone.

There were times when Tikki regretted having to reveal secrets to Ladybug piecemeal—she hadn’t even really told Marinette of the Guardian yet, despite seeking his help—but when it came to this, she understood.

Secrecy was paramount.

Hawk Moth’s misuse of power was precisely why.

“You need to help Nooroo,” Tikki repeated. “We might have saved him from an evil master, but he isn’t truly free yet. He won’t be for a while.” She flitted backwards nervously, not wanting to be away for long. There was still too much that could go wrong. 

“Go.” Master Fu’s dismissal was spoken softly but given without hesitation. She turned tail immediately, taking advantage of the fact that she was now free to flicker through walls. She’d check in on Marinette, and then she’d get the book. If she could at least hide it in the meantime, she’d feel better. 

It didn’t take her long to return. She hesitated when she saw Marinette still slumped against the chair, but the book was lying in the open, and Marinette would be much worse off if Gabriel Agreste was allowed to continue abusing its secrets. Tikki dove for the book, wishing she had accepted Wayzz’s help after all. She was struggling with the task of tugging away the ancient tome, intent on hauling it backwards through the doorway, when she heard Gabriel’s voice.

“Tikki, wasn’t it?”

She froze, not loosening her grip on the book but suddenly horribly aware that she hadn’t seen him lying on the floor when she’d come in. Why hadn’t she looked more carefully? She knew better. She hadn’t even thought him terribly injured; she’d seen him moving toward Nooroo’s Miraculous as she’d snatched it up. And even if he had gone to talk with his son, he wouldn’t have left the book out in the open.

She was a fool.

“Bring that back to me, Tikki.”

Tikki turned slowly, finally spotting Gabriel standing by the doorway, just in front of the desk. She began to feel rather ill, this time with something Master Fu couldn’t easily cure.

“ _Now_.” The word carried the weight of command. Tikki felt her body lurch toward Adrien’s father, her stomach still churning with dread.

_No._

She continued her advance slowly and jerkily, but the book wasn’t heavy enough to halt her progress completely.

 _Please, no_.

“Marinette,” she whispered, looking back at her friend. Marinette didn’t stir, not yet, but Tikki could see that she was breathing. 

She could also see that Marinette no longer wore her earrings.

Tikki felt Gabriel take the book, and then that was it, the task was over, so she could—

“Stop, Tikki.”

—not make it away in time.

“I am your master now. You will stay by my side and do as I say. Now come back here and remind me what I can do with your power.”

Tikki couldn’t help it. Even as she began to speak, drifting as slowly as she dared back to Gabriel’s side, she began to cry.

-|-

Wayzz jerked back into his hiding spot, not daring to let Gabriel Agreste see him. Master Fu had been right to have him follow Tikki despite her wishes, but Tikki was right in that there was little he could do here alone. Still, even if he couldn’t rescue Tikki himself, he could gather information as Master Fu had wanted and make the attempt if he felt that there was a chance of success.

They’d just gotten back Nooroo.

He didn’t want to lose Tikki.

The current— _former_ —Ladybug was injured, but she would recover. Even as he waited just out of sight around the corner, listening to Tikki’s voice breaking on the recitation of her powers, he could hear the girl stir. And if he had noticed, he was certain Gabriel would have as well, and he would not linger where he might lose his newest asset.

They would be moving soon, which mean Wayzz had to move first. He couldn’t retrieve Tikki or the book, but he could find Adrien. 

Wayzz began zipping from room to room, passing through walls nearly at ceiling level as he searched the mansion. He finally found Adrien not in a room but in a hallway, hugging his knees as he sat on the floor. He saw a woman hovering at the end of the corridor, keeping an eye on the boy. He didn’t seem to have noticed her, but she made Wayzz’s task more difficult.

He ended up distracting her by pushing over a vase in one of the rooms near her, letting her rush to investigate the sound of shattering porcelain, and pushing the door shut behind her. He had had enough practice with different locking mechanisms over the years that he was able to trip the lock, but he doubted it would hold her for long. He might have bought himself some time, but he would still need to be quick. 

Adrien started when Wayzz landed on his knee, and Wayzz shushed him hurriedly. “My name is Wayzz. I need your help. We have to save Tikki.”

Adrien frowned. “I thought…. What about Nooroo?”

“Nooroo’s safe. Tikki’s the one in trouble now. Your father stole her Miraculous.”

Adrien’s eyes widened at the words, shocked out of his tears. “But Marinette—!”

“Alive, but she shouldn’t keep fighting. Not alone. She needs you. She was chosen to be Ladybug, just as you were chosen to be Chat Noir.”

Those had been the wrong words. Wayzz knew that the moment they had left his mouth. Adrien’s face tightened. “I should never have been chosen as Chat Noir. Today just proved that. I’ve ruined everything.”

“You still have the power to save everything,” Wayzz said quietly, “and the boy chosen to be Chat Noir would take that chance. You have not changed that much, Adrien Agreste.”

Adrien swatted him away. “I destroyed Plagg! He was my friend, and I killed him! Don’t tell me I have the power to save everything—every _one_ —when it’s not true. I just destroy everything I touch.”

“Destruction is Plagg’s power,” agreed Wayzz. “He is the only one of us who can truly destroy another.”

“Yes, and I used it on him! It’s my fault he’s—”

“You used Nooroo’s power.”

Whatever argument Adrien had been about to make died on his tongue. “I…what?”

Wayzz might not know the exact details, but he could figure it out from what he’d felt. “You were transformed under Nooroo’s power, not Plagg’s, and Tikki was able to reverse what was done. But if you do not save her, you’ll be facing terrifying creations only Plagg can destroy, coaxing you out of hiding, and you will be hunted until your father has the Ring of the Black Cat. We’ve seen this before. He won’t stop. You need to defeat him now, before he has a chance to exercise his new power.”

Adrien was staring at Wayzz, but Wayzz had a feeling he’d stopped listening. Slowly, Adrien looked down and carefully opened his right hand. Nestled within was the Cat Miraculous, whole and inactive, green paw bright against black. “Plagg,” Adrien whispered.

“Keep him hidden for as long as you can. Unless your father transforms, you’ll be able to reclaim Tikki’s Miraculous without being transformed yourself. Once you have the earrings, Tikki will be free to follow you.”

Adrien carefully slipped the ring into his pocket, letting Wayzz know he had been listening. Thankfully, he knew enough that putting on the ring would be activating the Miraculous. Master Fu _had_ chosen well; not everyone would have been able to wait to be reunited with someone they had thought lost forever. “What about Marinette?”

Tikki was more important than Marinette, but Wayzz knew she wasn’t to Adrien. “Marinette won’t be safe as long as your father has Tikki, but I doubt she’s thinking about her own safety very much right now. I’m only asking you to join her fight. She’s injured, but she’s alive. You know her better than I; do you think she’ll just let your father take Tikki?”

“Marinette’s the strongest person I know,” Adrien said quietly. “She won’t give up.”

“Strength alone won’t help her right now. She needs her partner to back her up or she won’t win this fight. Help her rescue Tikki, but whatever you do, don’t lose the ring or you’ll lose Plagg.”

“And you?”

“I must get the book while your father is distracted. It’s too dangerous for him to have. I need to return it to my master.”

Adrien frowned, but he didn’t keep questioning, for which Wayzz was grateful. He wasn’t sure they had time for any more explanations. “Okay,” Adrien said as he climbed to his feet. “Let’s go.”

-|-

Marinette’s head was pounding, but she climbed to her feet when she realized Gabriel Agreste was still standing. He held one of the books again, and she could see the other behind him on the desk, but her eyes couldn’t seem to focus well enough to read the titles of either from this distance. Tikki’s power had taken away the pain from her earlier injuries when everything had been restored to the way it had been before, but she would have to live with these. Hopefully, her parents wouldn’t ask too many questions. She never had been the most graceful of daughters.

“Please, stop this,” Marinette implored when she noticed Adrien’s father looking at her. “There’s a better way. There must be.”

He was smiling, and Marinette suddenly saw Tikki hovering just behind his shoulder.

“Tikki?” she asked slowly. 

Tikki didn’t move, didn’t even answer her.

“Tikki?” she repeated, taking a step forward.

“Tikki does not belong to you,” Gabriel said.

Marinette frowned. Tikki had never belonged to her, just as Nooroo had never belonged to him, but she didn’t think…. “Tikki, what’s going on?”

Another step closer, and she finally saw the glint of red in Gabriel’s ears. She swallowed hard. Both hands flew up to feel her earlobes; they were bare. “No….”

“Run along, Mlle Dupain-Cheng. Our meeting is over.”

Marinette tried to swallow back the sick feeling that threatened to crawl up her throat. “You can’t do this.” But evidently he could, and was. “ _Please_.” She couldn’t lose Tikki to Hawk Moth. She had been trying to avoid that ever since she’d truly accepted the mantle of Ladybug. 

“I may not have the Ring of the Black Cat, but that does not mean the powers of the Ladybug Miraculous are useless to me. Tell me, Mlle Dupain-Cheng—what would you sacrifice for someone you loved?”

The question was all too similar to what Chat Noir had asked her. “If this is about your wife, I can help—”

“You admitted that you do not know the truth, so do not pretend you can help me.” His voice was cold. “I have your Miraculous; that is all I ever needed from you.”

“I think you need someone to remind you of your humanity,” Marinette said softly. “I think you’ve already sacrificed that in your search for the Miraculous.”

“He did.” 

Marinette turned slightly, suddenly realizing that Adrien stood in the open doorway. He was shaking, but he looked determined. He began a slow walk forward, no longer looking at Marinette as he headed for his father. Even from here, she could see his red eyes and tearstained cheeks, and her heart fluttered in her chest.

Adrien wasn’t supposed to look so _defeated_ , so _broken_ ; the brave face he put on now couldn’t hide the pain underneath.

“Father,” he continued, “there are some things that cannot be changed. Mother is gone.” He stopped less than a foot from his father. “You have to let her go.”

“I can still get her back.” The response was cracked through with desperation, one of the first real emotions Gabriel had allowed to bleed into his voice, but Marinette was too distracted by the look of utter horror on Tikki’s face to keep her eyes on him, even though she knew she should.

“Would she even want you to?”

“Adrien, you don’t—”

“Of course I understand!” Even Gabriel looked shocked by Adrien’s outburst. “Father, you’ve been pushing me this entire time, haven’t you? Didn’t you want to know what I would do if I were in your place? You wanted validation. You wanted to know that what you were doing isn’t wrong because of what you’ll gain. But it _is_ wrong.”

Marinette saw Gabriel’s face blank as he carefully closed off his emotions once again, and she was terribly certain that Adrien had pushed too far, but she didn’t think that she should intervene right now. She wasn’t sure she could, even if she had wanted to. The throbbing in her skull was only getting worse, and she reached back for the chair to steady herself.

“You made the same choices, Adrien.”

Adrien shook his head. “No. You wanted the Miraculous to obtain power in an attempt to do the impossible. I was willing to give up that power to preserve what didn’t deserve to be ripped apart.”

“I am willing to give up everything for the woman I love; you were willing to do the same.”

 _What?_ Marinette looked at Adrien, but he was ahead of her now and she couldn’t see his face. Her heart did a somersault as the possibilities raced through her mind, which did nothing to make her more steady on her feet, and she had to force herself to focus. The situation was too dangerous for her to allow her mind to wander.

And she had no guarantee that Adrien’s father wasn’t twisting the meaning of his words.

“This isn’t self-sacrifice, Father. This is madness. You would destroy an entire city for one person?”

“I would level Paris if it would save your mother.” There was no doubt in his voice at all, and it made Marinette shiver. “She is worth the world to me.”

“Then it’s not love, not when you know she wouldn’t want you doing this for her sake, not when she is already lost. It’s an obsession. It’s poisoned you.”

The sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh sounded through the air, and Adrien was sent reeling backwards from the force of the slap. His father slowly lowered his hand. “Never speak to me that way again.”

Adrien touched a tentative hand to his reddening cheek but straightened defiantly. “Would you prefer that we keep lying to each other?” 

“I would prefer that you do not judge until you understand. What I sought to do was not impossible, Adrien. Were the Ring of the Black Cat not destroyed, I would have been able to combine it with the Earrings of the Ladybug. With the instructions in the book, I would have been able to bring back your mother. We could have been a family again.”

Adrien stood even with Marinette now, keeping his distance, and she saw his eyes go wide. She had never imagined it either, what might be possible if the Miraculous were combined. Hawk Moth’s determination to seize their Miraculous suddenly made a lot more sense. As powerful as they were on their own, their combined power was synergistic—and too much, she suspected, for one person to safely wield.

Adrien must think much the same, if he believed the mere aspiration of that power had been enough to skew his father’s judgement.

“We won’t ever be a family again,” Adrien said at length. “Not like we were. Too much has happened.”

“Sometimes treachery can’t be forgiven.” Marinette didn’t realize she’d spoken the words aloud until she caught Adrien’s slight nod. She’d been remembering her own struggle with it earlier as she wrestled with her conscience about whether or not she should forgive Chat Noir. As treacherous an act as that had seemed, it was insignificant compared to something like this.

She wasn’t sure where Adrien found the courage to face down his father right now.

“Then don’t forgive me. I will not beg for your forgiveness, Adrien, when I would not act any differently if given the choice. I only ask that you cease trying to stop me and leave me be. I would like to see your mother again, even if you do not.”

“Of course I want to see her again!” Adrien burst out. “How can you say I don’t? I miss her so much it hurts! But what you’re proposing isn’t right. Mother would never want you to do this. She wouldn’t—”

“She gave up everything for you,” snarled Gabriel. “She would understand exactly what I am doing in trying to get her back.”

Adrien withdrew something from his pocket. “Well, I’d like to think she’d understand why I can’t let you, too.” And then he was moving, spinning away and calling, “Plagg, claws out!” 

Plagg.

He wasn’t gone; his magic was rushing over Adrien as she watched, transforming him into Chat Noir.

The ring wasn’t destroyed after all.

Marinette knew it was possible that Tikki would have been able to restore it, but she hadn’t…. She’d watched Plagg get caught by Adrien’s Cataclysm, taking the blow meant for her, and she’d thought that that was the end. Tikki hadn’t said anything to the contrary, and Adrien’s grief had been genuine. He couldn’t have known the truth for long.

She stood frozen, useless, as Gabriel lunged for his son, but Adrien ducked away again, calling on Plagg’s power of destruction. Marinette’s heart leapt into her throat as she saw the bubbling cataclysmic magic swirling around Adrien’s hand.

He was so close to his father, but he wouldn’t, surely, not even—!

Gabriel stilled, and then his lip curled. He didn’t seem afraid of Adrien; he seemed resigned that it had come to this. “Tikki,” he commanded, “transform me.”

It must have been the moment Adrien had been waiting for. While Gabriel was blinded by the swirling magic, Adrien had darted around and reached out for the book Gabriel had dropped when he’d realized Adrien still had the ring. His fingers brushed the cover, and its pages crumbled into dust. A split second later, he ended his transformation, just as Gabriel’s had finished.

Even as Plagg’s magic had been retreating, Adrien had been moving, crossing the room to meet her. He took her hands and tugged her forward. “Get out of here, Marinette. You can’t fight this. Go. Please. I…I don’t want to lose you.”

“I—”

“Give me the ring, Adrien, or I’ll be forced to take it.”

Marinette didn’t want to look at Gabriel, but she was drawn to him anyway. His suit had more black than hers, but it wasn’t a reversal like Antibug’s had been; it was its own design, crafted for a different user, this one with darker intentions. The solid black accents looked sinister on him, all sharp angles and razor straight edges, and even his mask—cowl, really—was reminiscent of war paint. Her suit looked innocent by comparison. Naïve, even.

She had been.

“Go, Marinette,” Adrien pleaded.

She felt her fingers close around his ring. He had spoken of self-sacrifice, had hinted at nearly suicidal attempts to do the impossible, and now he wanted to face this danger alone. By himself. 

She didn’t want to leave him, but he’d given her the ring.

She had to get as far away from here as she could.

She had to try, at least.

Adrien pushed her away as his father advanced, calling out a taunt to try to keep Gabriel’s attention from her, and she dropped into a roll to keep out of his reach before finding her feet and running.

She didn’t look back.

She couldn’t afford to.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little darker in places than I’d expected, and a tad more violent, so fair warning.

Wayzz couldn’t stop Adrien from using the Cat Miraculous, and he could not counter Plagg’s power and restore the knowledge that was lost with the destruction of the book. But he understood why Adrien had done what he had, despite the risks, and he had seen the boy pass off the inactive Miraculous to young Marinette.

He was not certain that Adrien’s father had not seen it as well, so when the girl who should be Ladybug began to run, he stopped hiding.

He might not have claws as sharp as Plagg’s, but he didn’t need that in order to be a distraction.

He heard Adrien stutter out his name in surprise as he streaked in, aiming for the exposed skin of Gabriel’s face. The mask Tikki had crafted for him covered more than the one she had made for Marinette, but Wayzz was able to snap at the tender flesh around his mouth. He zipped around Gabriel’s head, looking for another opening, but this suit had a hood; it covered obvious weak spots like the soft spot behind the ears, near the jaw.

Wayzz went for the eyes instead.

When a soft body thudded into Gabriel, Wayzz knew Adrien had not taken the opportunity to run like he should have.

But as the two Agrestes hit the floor, Wayzz finally saw the opening Tikki had made for him: Gabriel’s hood dipped back before moving forward to meld into a mask that covered the top half of Gabriel’s face. While it was entirely within her power to make it so that the hood was skin tight but still flexible enough for a full range of movement, Tikki had managed to allow him a gap. It was too small for most humans to easily exploit, but it was large enough for him to reach her Miraculous.

It was large enough for him to save her.

Wayzz zipped out of sight as Gabriel threw off his son. Gabriel reached for Ladybug’s yo-yo, but he was new to this weapon, and Wayzz could see his unfamiliarity with it. His movements were more jerky than smooth. Wayzz could not defeat Ladybug’s yo-yo. Adrien was well aware of its capabilities and acted accordingly, but Gabriel was ready for the attack this time.

And foreign though the movement was to him, he had been briefed on Tikki’s power.

Wayzz flew to Adrien as the terrifying creation took form, much too akin to the golems he had helped fight with Tikki in the past for Wayzz’s taste. This creature was driven by the small patterned scroll hidden in its mouth, but in a whirlwind of magic it had built itself out of the materials in the room, sprouting from the tile on the floor as it warped paintings and curtains and cushions, glass and metal and marble, to create its vaguely humanoid figure. It stood seven feet if it was an inch, stretched long and thin, but Wayzz knew that however spindly it may look, it would be as strong as steel and more resilient than any of Nooroo’s champions.

The Miraculous were not meant to be used for evil, and Wayzz could feel Adrien’s heart jump in his chest as the boy took a small step back, away from the horrifying creation.

“Bring me the ring,” Gabriel ordered.

Wayzz clung to Adrien’s shirt as the creature advanced. Adrien stood frozen, but Wayzz had no advice when it came to defeating Tikki’s creations. He hoped its likeness meant its weakness was the same as that of the other golems, but he wasn’t about to risk Adrien’s life on that bet. 

The creature moved faster than either Wayzz or Adrien had anticipated, a length of curtain in place of a hand whipping out to snag Adrien’s legs and upending him before flinging him toward the glass block in the room’s centre. He collided with the podium; Wayzz lost his grip and sailed into the wall which had once held a safe, before its metal had been repurposed. By the time he got his bearings again, Adrien lay in a crumpled heap, and the creature was gone. It was continuing its hunt for the ring, meaning it was hunting down the true Ladybug.

There wasn’t much time, and with Adrien down, Wayzz had little hope for a sufficient distraction.

Marinette would only need to last five minutes—less, by the time the creature found her—but even four minutes might be too long.

“I never wanted this, Adrien,” Gabriel said softly. “I wanted to keep you out of this. When I realized you were caught up in it already….” He shook his head. “Perhaps I should have acted differently, but I only wanted what was best for you, and I believed that that was making sure you had your mother.”

Adrien didn’t move.

Wayzz knew he should go after Marinette, but he didn’t want to deliver the news to Plagg that his Chat Noir had perished. Not until he was certain. The boy had proven himself resilient in the past, and Wayzz couldn’t even tell if his body was broken from this angle.

Even so, the stillness was worrisome enough for a frown crossed Gabriel’s face. Gabriel moved closer, gliding across the floor from the far side of the room as if he hadn’t seen the monster clawing its way to life through it just a moment earlier. “Adrien?”

The earrings beeped once.

Four minutes.

Four long minutes before Tikki’s nightmarish creation would cease to be.

Wayzz didn’t want to abandon his plan, but if Marinette didn’t have backup….

The Ring of the Black Cat and the Earrings of the Ladybug were the only two Miraculous Master Fu had passed out so far. The Brooch of the Butterfly had been recovered, but Master Fu wouldn’t awaken Nooroo again yet. He could awaken one of the others, but Wayzz did not think he would; he worked best when he worked with Wayzz.

Wayzz closed his eyes, just for a second, so that he could think more clearly. If he left now, there was a slim chance he’d beat the creature to Marinette and be able to warn her. But Wayzz had nothing Plagg could eat to replenish his energy, and finding something before looking for Marinette would take far too long. If he stayed here, his chances of success weren’t much higher; he’d been counting on Adrien to act as a distraction. If Gabriel was distracted, Wayzz had a better chance of grabbing Tikki’s earrings. If he could remove them, Tikki would be free, and the monstrous use of her magic would be cut short.

If he failed in his initial bout to get the earrings, he would have a chance to try again, even if it meant he had to fight Tikki in the process.

But Marinette might not last those four minutes.

His best chance to save her—to save them—meant he had to fight for the earrings and leave Marinette to fend for herself, without any warning of what was coming.

But she had been chosen as Ladybug for a reason.

Master Fu had never once doubted his choice, even when she had first appeared reluctant.

Wayzz needed to trust her now, as much as he had ever trusted his master.

He opened his eyes, readied himself, and attacked.

-|-

Marinette clutched at the stitch in her side and pushed on. She couldn’t afford to stop. She had to put as much distance as possible between Adrien’s father and herself—or more importantly, Plagg and the Miraculous. If she just kept putting one foot in front of the other, then surely—

Marinette wasn’t sure how she’d tripped, but she was suddenly on the sidewalk, her palms stinging and scratched. She could feel the tear in the right knee of her pants; she could fix it later, but right now she needed to find—

 _There_. The ring had flown out of her hand, but it hadn’t gone far. She scrambled to the edge of the road and fished it out of the gutter. It was still whole, not damaged at all, but to think she’d nearly _lost_ it….

Marinette stood and slipped the ring onto her finger, not wanting to think about what would have happened if she had lost it.

“I’m so hungry,” a voice said in her ear, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Plagg?” she asked, but a quick glance down at the now-silver ring on her hand confirmed her suspicion. 

“I haven’t eaten in _eons_ ,” the kwami complained. “I need _something_.”

Marinette’s hand automatically went to her purse, and through some stroke of luck, she hadn’t lost it in the fight. Slinging it crosswise definitely helped. “I have cookies,” she murmured, pulling out the bag even as Plagg made a retching sound. She had mostly crumbs now—she’d need to get a hard container for them in the future—but she managed to fish out a few of the larger pieces and hold them out.

Sure enough, the kwami looked less than delighted. “I don’t think I can stomach that again.”

“It’s just to tide you over. You can’t always eat—what was it?”

“Camembert. The most heavenly cheese that ever—”

“I don’t have any camembert.” And she couldn’t afford to buy some or spend the time looking for any right now. “Please, Plagg. M. Agreste has Tikki, and I don’t know what to do. Adrien gave you to me and told me to run, but he stayed behind, and I don’t think…. I just don’t know….”

She was crying.

She didn’t have time to cry. She knew that. But she couldn’t seem to stop.

Plagg looked vaguely alarmed and made a show of forcing himself to eat the cookies. Marinette moved to lean against a tree—being at the edge of a park must be the only reason it had been safe enough for Plagg to reveal himself—and tried to catch her breath, consciously slowing down her breathing and trying to get a grip on her wild emotions. The tears finally dried, and she realized Plagg had settled on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and tried to will away the pounding in her head, but it still felt like someone was trying to crack open her skull with each heartbeat.

“Should we go back?” she heard herself ask. “Or is the best thing really to get you as far away as possible?”

Tiny claws suddenly dug into her shoulder, and she felt Plagg shudder. “You need to transform. Now. It’s easy. Just say claws out.”

“What?” Marinette turned to look at Plagg and suddenly realized the pounding wasn’t entirely in her head. 

She ran out into the sidewalk to get a better look and her eyes widened when she saw what was coming toward them. Its black-and-white checkered body was reminiscent of marble tile, but the pattern curved around a figure too skinny to be as steady as it appeared to be. While one leg was made of the same material, the other seemed to be solid white marble, and the arms were different; one was metal, partially covered in painted canvas and tipped with four sharp, metal claws as if they were fingers, and the other was a strange blend of black and magenta cloth, twisted to end in a black whip. Shards of crystal or glass and something else—chips of marble, maybe?—were perched on top as a sort of head, and though it had no neck, it had turned to look at her when she made her move. _Something_ glinted within the depths that had been left for its eyes, in the gaping hole of its mouth, and her own mouth went dry.

“ _Transform_ ,” Plagg hissed.

Marinette took one unsteady step backwards and then another as it advanced on her, glad her legs still worked even if they were shaky. “What _is_ that?”

“Something you can only destroy with Cataclysm, so _transform_!”

The _thing_ , whatever it was, was faster than it should be, considering its joints looked to be made of stone and twisted metal. It was certainly quicker than Stoneheart had been. Marinette dove for the line of trees and starting running, cutting across the park, but a quick glance over her shoulder showed that the thing was gaining on her—and confirmed that it was following her.

“Do you have enough energy to use Cataclysm again?” she panted.

“Would I tell you to transform if I didn’t?”

 _Probably_ , she thought bitterly, _if only because as Chat Noir, I would have a chance to get away using his—my—baton._ But she couldn’t transform here; it was too exposed, and the people who had been far enough away earlier were around now, either running away like they should or looking at her fleeing from some sort of nightmarish creation, frozen in place as if they couldn’t tear their eyes from the impending disaster. More than one of those bystanders had their phone out, which really meant she couldn’t afford to transform now.

Plagg was still clinging to her shoulder, but with any luck, he’d blend in with her pigtails.

It was a long shot, but if Alya saw any footage of this and asked, Marinette hoped to have thought up a better explanation by then.

“Just focus on getting to that alley,” Plagg said when Marinette looked behind her again, trying to swallow down a swell of panic as she realized just how _big_ the creature was.

“You know,” she gasped, “what that is. Tell me. Please.”

“I think you already know,” Plagg muttered.

“Plagg, please.”

“Nooroo’s power is transformation. Metamorphosis, really. He creates champions by granting them the power they need to fight and win battles.”

“I know. I’ve seen what Nooroo can do.”

“Well, now you’ve seen what else Tikki can do, too.”

Marinette missed a step and barely managed to catch herself before they both hit the ground. She knew Gabriel had taken her Miraculous, but this couldn’t be Tikki. This was monstrous. This was—

“The power of creation,” Plagg said, “doesn’t have to be pretty.”

“You can get _that_ from Lucky Charm?” Marinette could hear the rising hysteria in her own voice.

“It’s a little more specific than that.”

“ _Specific_?”

“It doesn’t matter. I can stop it once you transform.”

“But—”

“Which needs to be _now_.”

“We’re still out in the open!” Or too exposed, anyway, if nearly through the park at last. “People will see us!”

“It doesn’t matter. Just transform!”

“But—!”

“ _Now_!”

But it wasn’t far now. Five metres, maybe, to the edge of the alley, and that would do. Marinette put her head down and tried to reach for more speed. _Just a little farther_. She could make it, no matter what Plagg thought. A few more steps—

Sharp metal talons raked across her back, tearing through to the skin beneath, and Marinette screamed as she fell.

-|-

 _One_.

He held his breath, not yet daring to swallow the blood in his mouth, let alone spit it out.

 _Two_.

The scuffle he’d been listening to was over; he didn’t know what had happened to Wayzz, but his father was coming back to check on him again. 

_Three_.

His façade wouldn’t pass a close inspection. He didn’t have long, but he didn’t need long. Still, if his timing was off, it would all be for naught.

 _Four_.

That’s why he had to count off the seconds, count off his heartbeats. Six times to ten, just to keep track. Just in case.

 _Five_.

He wouldn’t get a chance to try again, and he couldn’t afford to make another mistake.

 _Six_.

He’d made enough already. It would be easier to do nothing, and certainly safer for him, but that simply wasn’t an option.

 _Seven_.

He had try. For Plagg, for Marinette, for his mother, for all of Paris. He had to try. He had been chosen as Chat Noir for a reason.

 _Eight_.

He only hoped that one last act of treachery might begin to make amends for all the wrong he had done, for all the terror his family had wrought.

 _Nine_.

It was a sobering thought. This may well doom him, but it would save everyone else, and that’s all that—

 _Ten_.

As the second beep pierced the silence, Adrien twisted, throwing out his right arm to catch his father in the stomach while swinging himself upright. Once he got his feet under him, he used the podium for leverage and launched himself at his father. Gabriel had been leaning over; he couldn’t maintain his balance as Adrien’s weight barrelled into him, and Adrien was going to have to use every advantage he could.

Including unclasping the yo-yo from Gabriel’s waist and throwing it across the room, behind Nathalie’s desk, before his father realized what he was trying to do. It would prevent him from using it as a weapon, and it would prevent him from trying to restore what remained of the book. It was entirely too dangerous to let him keep it.

Wayzz was _there_ , a green blur zipping between them, and a knot he didn’t know he’d had loosened in Adrien’s stomach. Still, his relief was short-lived. Wayzz might still be fighting, but Adrien didn’t even have a weapon. His fingernails raked uselessly against the suit, and he wished he didn’t already know how futile it would be to try to remove the mask—or, in this case, cowl. He wondered if his father had had some input in the suit; he would be one to try to protect the Miraculous by covering it up, and his suit was nothing like Ladybug’s. The _real_ Ladybug’s. Marinette’s. 

Adrien’s stomach turned at the thought of Marinette, at the creature that had followed her, and while he was distracted, his father broke his grip and pushed him away. Adrien scrambled for and managed to latch onto his leg, trying to at least prevent him from getting back the yo-yo. Even if he couldn’t get the Miraculous now—

No, waiting out his father wasn’t an option, not with that _thing_ after Marinette and Plagg.

Fencing and basketball might not equip him for wrestling, but Adrien didn’t need to worry about fighting fair. They’d rolled near the wall, and he managed to snatch a jagged piece of glass from a broken picture frame, one of the few shards large enough to be of use but small enough to be easily manipulated. He began trying to jab it into the back of his father’s knee, holding his leg in place so he couldn’t easily get away. Adrien was rewarded by slicing open his palm, but he didn’t give up.

The suit would take the brunt of it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful.

His effort was enough to make Gabriel stop his advance, and when Gabriel tried to twist around to catch Adrien’s hands—“Adrien, you’re hurting yourself!”—Adrien shifted his weight, kicking out his legs and sweeping Gabriel’s feet out from under him. 

Adrien rolled away before Gabriel could pin him down and pounced on top of his father instead, fighting to keep his balance even as he straddled his waist. With Gabriel facing him, it wasn’t an easy task, and it took all of Adrien’s strength and leverage to keep him down and keep his arms in place. He ended up trying to use his head to bear down more of his weight on Gabriel’s chest, so he didn’t see Wayzz finish it, darting in to steal back the Miraculous just as they beeped a third time. Adrien only looked up when he found himself leaving bloody smears on his father’s once-pristine suit.

Tikki didn’t reappear, but Wayzz vanished with her Miraculous, and Adrien hoped that meant everything was all right. He hoped it meant Marinette was all right. He hoped Plagg was still safe. 

But he couldn’t afford to be distracted by any of them right now. He straightened, releasing his grip on his father’s arms despite making no move to abandon his position altogether. Wayzz might need a bit more time, and he had a feeling this wasn’t quite over yet. Still, a part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, and he ended up baring bloody teeth at his father in something that was as much snarl as smile.

“Adrien, you’re hurt,” Gabriel said in a more soothing tone than he usually used for his son. Adrien recognized it; it was the calm, clearheaded voice of a CEO mixed with the consolatory tone of an HR person bearing bad news. Adrien might have only ever seen the success of his father’s labours, but he knew Gabriel had built his company from scratch and played every role along the way. 

Nathalie told him it ensured that Gabriel better understood those who worked under him, but Adrien was convinced that this was proof that his father didn’t understand anyone at all.

“Don’t,” Adrien warned as Gabriel tried to move. “And don’t treat me like a child anymore. How can you—?” His voice broke, and he blew out his breath in anger. “You don’t have a right to call yourself a parent after this. You might be my father, but you aren’t acting like one.”

“Adrien, I only wanted to protect—”

“Protect me? Is that it? By manipulating me? Controlling me? Making me think I’d murdered one of my best friends? All this time I thought I wasn’t worthy of being your son, and it turns out—!” He couldn’t bring himself to finish. “You can’t blame Mother for this. You can’t pretend you’re doing it for her. You aren’t. You’ve been doing it for yourself.”

“You’re in shock, Adrien. You aren’t thinking clearly. If you’ll just—”

“ _Stay down_ ,” Adrien hissed, leaning forward so he could pin his father’s shoulders. Gabriel obediently stopped struggling—biding his time, most likely—but Adrien had brushed a hard lump in the breast pocket of his father’s suit jacket and his stomach had already turned to lead. 

Sure enough, when he tried to find out what else his father was hiding, Gabriel grabbed his wrist and forced it away. Adrien reached out with his injured hand, and Gabriel released his good one and grabbed onto his right one.

Hard.

Pain shot up his arm, and Adrien gasped. Gabriel only squeezed harder, digging his fingers into the wound, and Adrien couldn’t stop himself from crying out. Gabriel freed himself with little effort. “You’ll understand once it’s over, Adrien,” he promised. “You’ll forgive me then.”

Adrien wiped the tears from his eyes and somehow found the breath to protest. “Never. I’ll never forgive you for this!”

“Never is a long time,” Gabriel said. “You shouldn’t make such rash pronouncements.” He was reaching into his pocket, pulling out— What _was_ that? It was small enough to fit in his hand, so Adrien only caught a flash of colour, but for him to so fiercely protect it, it must—

Oh, no.

His first thought must have been right. He might have destroyed the book, but what if the Butterfly Miraculous wasn’t the only one his father had managed to obtain? He had no idea how long Gabriel had had the book, no idea how much he’d had copied out or been able to memorize, no idea what this latest Miraculous could do—

“Then just _stop_!” Adrien cried, squeezing his eyes shut as they began to tear up again. “Just stop this, and maybe we can…maybe….” But he couldn’t finish the thought. Right now, he didn’t believe it. 

Maybe there was a chance, but there couldn’t be—wouldn’t be—if nothing changed.

And when he opened his eyes again, salty tears not enough to drive away the taste of copper in his mouth, he knew Gabriel wouldn’t make that change. The certainty settled on his chest, making it hard to breathe, and he was shaking as he slowly got to his feet. Gabriel was waiting less than halfway to the door, no doubt hoping Adrien would be the one to make the change, but Adrien couldn’t change his mind about this, either. It was wrong. Claiming that it was done for his mother didn’t make it right.

He had to get that Miraculous.

Adrien fingered the glass shard he’d palmed nervously. This one was sharper than the last; while that one had been more like a dagger, it almost felt like this one had a serrated edge. This one was smaller, too. Easier to hide in the short term, but….

Adrien swallowed. He didn’t want to do this. He just wasn’t sure he had a choice.

He couldn’t let his father leave with another Miraculous, another chance to destroy lives in a misguided attempt to better his own. He couldn’t let him take another prisoner.

His right hand was mostly useless now, but Gabriel had insisted he be a double-handed fencer, and being forced to use his left here was far from a handicap. He may not be ambidextrous, but he’d worked hard over the years to be able to do multiple tasks with his non-dominant hand. Now, that hard work would come to fruition.

“Nathalie will take care of you,” Gabriel was saying. “I’ll come back for you once it’s over. _We’ll_ come back for you.”

This was wrong, and he couldn’t see it. 

“I’ll arrange to take a sudden, extended business trip. You should have no trouble.”

He just _couldn’t see it_ , couldn’t see any of it.

He’s the one who didn’t understand.

Adrien took a step forward, and when his father didn’t take a step back, he kept going.

“I never wanted it to come to this, Adrien, but regardless of your disbelief, I can bring your mother back. One day, you’ll understand why I am giving up the world for her.”

He wasn’t giving up the world for her; he was making a sacrifice of it.

She would be horrified by the truth if she knew.

“So you’re leaving now?” Adrien asked. Even if Gabriel managed to leave, Adrien doubted he’d get very far without questions. His suit jacket hung open, the buttons torn clean off at some point, and his vest was half undone. The shirt beneath was untucked and rumpled, ripped where the Butterfly Brooch had once been pinned. With his cravat gone, his shirt collar askew, his hair mussed, and one arm of his glasses snapped, he was hardly inconspicuous. 

The blood—both dried and fresh—that stained his clothes hardly helped matters.

Adrien wondered how bad he looked; he was no doubt the same, with the added bonus of bruises blooming across his skin and the crisscrossed tracks of nicks and scratches and cuts from their fight.

“It will only take a moment to become presentable.” Gabriel didn’t seem to question the abrupt end to their fight. He thought he had won, that he had proved his dominance over Adrien and that Adrien was going to be his usual subservient self because he had finally seen the right of it.

Gabriel was wrong.

“Just know that I am not abandoning y—”

Adrien pulled his left hand back and drove it forward into his father’s gut with as much force as he could muster. He was able to drive the glass shard through an opening in the vest, through the shirt and into the abdomen. He didn’t try to pull it out again; he wasn’t sure which would do more damage, and he thought leaving it in might help to contain the bleeding.

He didn’t want his father dead; he just wanted the Miraculous so that Gabriel couldn’t do any more harm.

Gabriel staggered, shock written all over his features, and Adrien snatched the brooch from where it had fallen. It was a peacock tail, and though something about it seemed familiar, he didn’t have time to think. He turned to go, but Gabriel caught his arm, and despite himself Adrien glanced down at the wound. It was already spreading a dark, sticky stain over the layers of clothing, and Adrien wondered just how much damage he had done.

His father did not miss the look, and his fingers tightened on Adrien’s arm as he swayed on his feet. “You think you’re so different from me, but you aren’t. You’re my son. And this, Adrien, is what I have been wondering all along. _This_ is how far you will go to protect the woman you love.”

Adrien jerked away, wanting to deny the words but not sure he could. As Gabriel collapsed to his knees, Adrien fled. He tore passed a dishevelled Nathalie coming downstairs, ignoring her squawk of surprise. He sailed through the front door, but something must have made her decide against following him, because he was halfway down the driveway when he heard her scream. His heart jumped in his chest, but he knew what she had found, and he knew he had to keep moving.

-|-

Nooroo might be safe, the Butterfly Miraculous stashed safely away with the Comb of the Bee and the Necklace of the Fox, but Master Fu was worried.

Wayzz had not returned, not even to briefly bring word of Tikki or Plagg.

Master Fu touched the bracelet he wore, hoping he hadn’t made another wrong decision that had resulted in the kwami paying the price for his mistakes. He knew the risks, of course, and he knew their skill, but a lack of trust was not the reason he had set out, leaving behind a coded message for Wayzz should he return in the meantime. He had set out because he felt terribly certain that he was needed and that he had already waited too long to act.

Allowing Ladybug and Chat Noir room to grow was one thing, but he was too used to how things had been in the past. He had been waiting for Tikki and Plagg to decide it was time to bring the newest heroes to him. Now, he wondered if the circumstances had shifted too violently for the usual protocols to be observed. 

That was why he feared he had failed again; he was a guardian not just of the Miraculous but of their holders.

Master Fu had left his walking stick behind and set out at a quick clip, easily projecting the aura of someone who knew exactly where they were going and who did not intend to be late. Except he didn’t know where he was going, not without Wayzz, not really, and he had no idea at all if he was too late. The only thing he could think to do now was to check on young Adrien Agreste and see if he had discovered the truth of what had happened to Plagg.

He found the boy a block and a half from the Agreste residence. His head was down, and he was running without heed to where he was going. People were stepping out of his path, but Master Fu very deliberately did not. Apologies spilled from Adrien’s mouth after they collided, and he was quick to help Master Fu to his feet, but if Adrien recognized him, he was too distracted to say anything.

Master Fu, however, was not too distracted to notice the blood on Adrien’s hands, so he used his not inconsiderable strength to drag the boy from prying eyes. Adrien was either too stunned to resist him or perhaps too much in shock; by the time they had ducked into an alleyway, he was shaking uncontrollably.

Master Fu had brought very little with him, but a handkerchief served to dry Adrien’s eyes and made some progress in wiping away the blood from his hands and face. Adrien sat numbly as Master Fu worked, not flinching while his hand was bandaged or when the salty tears first touched his wounds, and he made no protest as Master Fu tried to make him look more presentable in general. It would not do to attract more attention.

“Thank you,” Adrien said once Master Fu stepped back, “but I really must be going—”

“Patience, young one. You wish to fly without even knowing if your wings will hold you. Come now, up you get.” Adrien smiled his thanks and took Master Fu’s offered hand, but though he was steady on his feet, Master Fu did not release him. He wasn’t finished yet. “I am sorry, young man. I never imagined events would unfold as they have. I did not know Nooroo’s whereabouts.”

Adrien’s expression abruptly shifted from polite confusion to frozen blankness.

“You may call me Master Fu. I was the one who gave you the Ring of the Black Cat.”

Adrien yanked his hand from Master Fu’s. “You made a mistake.”

“I have made mistakes before,” Master Fu acknowledged, “but choosing you to wield Plagg’s Miraculous was not one of them.”

Adrien was backing away, shaking his head. “You can’t say that. You don’t even know what I’ve done.”

“I have seen Chat Noir save this city time and again with Ladybug. I have seen you willingly put yourself in danger in order to protect others—”

“I can’t protect people!” Adrien spat. “I think I can, but I only do more harm than good.”

“Then you are blind to the effects of your own actions. Perhaps your partner can help you see. Where is she?”

“Marinette?” Adrien blinked, caught off his guard. “She…ran. I don’t know where she is now. I hope…. I hope she’s…. If she’s not—”

“Hush. She will be found if we only look.” Master Fu gently took Adrien’s hand again, and the boy allowed it. He pulled them out of the alley and led Adrien toward the nearest park. “Let us begin our search here.”

As it turned out, they did not need to search for long. They met Wayzz coming in the opposite direction, and even before they reached the park, they could see the gathering crowd on the other side. Adrien stumbled into a run, and Master Fu let him go, following at a much more inconspicuous rate as he listened to Wayzz, who had settled onto his shoulder.

“She was attacked, Master.” Wayzz’s tone was grim. “Plagg says they were not able to transform in time. He suspects she did not wish to reveal them.”

Plagg would not push for a transformation if that were the case unless— “Tikki?”

“Inactive, in Plagg’s care. He was coming for help when I found him, and it was already too late for me to return the earrings to their rightful wielder. People began approaching to help Marinette after the monster’s collapse. Someone rang for an ambulance.”

Tikki’s magic had been abused, then, and used against the young woman who was meant to work with her. But if Marinette had been injured by Tikki’s magic, then her injuries would heal much more slowly with conventional medicine. 

Wayzz hid himself as they arrived, and Master Fu made his way to the front of the crowd. Marinette was sitting up. Someone had draped a coat over her shoulders, but he could see from the way that she was hunched forward that she was in pain. She stared blankly at Adrien who was kneeling in front of her, but when Master Fu shifted and she caught sight of him, her eyes widened. She knew he had helped Tikki before, and she might have put the pieces together now if she remembered the first time she had run into him. 

She tried to get to her feet, to the immediate protest of everyone around her, so Master Fu did the only thing he could think of: he went to her, calling her by name and expressing his concern, and she didn’t contradict him when he named her as his granddaughter. With Marinette leaning on Adrien for support, the three of them were able to break through the crowd, although Master Fu suspect that was because he insisted he only lived a few doors down when he did not. He informed the young lady on the phone with emergency services that he was perfectly capable of seeing Marinette to the hospital himself and that no one’s time needed to be wasted here. It took some convincing, but eventually that was done and he thanked everyone for their concern, returned the borrowed coat, and made certain the crowd dispersed while Marinette limped along the street with Adrien.

It seemed Marinette and Adrien had been exchanging stories, and at some point along the way, Plagg had joined them. Marinette wore her earrings again and Tikki rode silently on her shoulder, half-hidden beneath the collar of Adrien’s borrowed jacket; he now carried what remained of Marinette’s. While it didn’t take Master Fu long to catch up to them, they did not reach his clinic as quickly as he would have liked. He closed it behind him once they’d arrived and made sure everyone was settled in the inner room before preparing something to help Marinette.

“Can’t you just reverse this?” Adrien asked, looking at both Marinette and Tikki.

“No.” Plagg was the one to answer, most likely because Tikki was wrapped in silence and Marinette didn’t know. “The _Miraculous Ladybug_ spell is an extension of _Lucky Charm_.”

“And the scroll that drove the monster that injured young Marinette vanished when we took back Tikki’s Miraculous,” Wayzz added. “And since control of the Miraculous technically passed from your father to Marinette, the initial framework for the magic has been shattered. Since it’s not just dormant, we have no way of getting it back.”

Adrien swallowed. “So whatever we’ve done can’t be fixed?”

He sounded horrified, and Master Fu remembered the blood on his hands. “Drink,” he ordered, pushing a steaming cup of tea toward Adrien. He handed another to Marinette. They were slightly different brews, but each served its own purpose.

Wayzz took the cue for what it was and fetched a wedge of camembert for Plagg and a cookie for Tikki. Plagg inhaled his readily enough, but Tikki refused to eat, murmuring that she wasn’t hungry. That was a lie, of course. She hadn’t replenished her energy; she would be starving. Wayzz knew not to press her, though, and Master Fu did not mention it; her brief time in captivity had shaken her, and she’d eat soon enough.

Master Fu had hoped to get the story out of them while he worked, but he ended up treating Adrien’s wound first and sending the boy with Wayzz on an errand to distract him while he cleaned and bandaged Marinette’s wounds. By the time Adrien returned with food he could just as easily have fetched from the pantry as up the street, Master Fu had finished the worst of it, and Wayzz could lay down the first spell while he prepared a salve to be applied later.

“You’ll just need to give it a bit of time,” he promised, “but you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said softly. He had given her another cup of tea, and she sipped it frequently—trying to avoid saying too much, he suspected.

It was Adrien who broke the silence. “What’s going to happen now?” he asked. “After what we…what _I_ did….”

“Tell me how you left things first.”

They did, each picking up parts of the story as they saw fit. He learned of Hawk Moth’s trickery, Nooroo’s discovery, the book’s destruction, their fight with Gabriel—

“Father had this,” Adrien added, digging for something in his pocket as if only just remembering it. “I didn’t think I should let him keep it.” He held out the Peacock Miraculous.

“Duusu,” Wayzz breathed. Plagg did not look nearly as surprised, so Master Fu decided to question him later. For now, he took the Peacock Miraculous and laid it with the others. 

When he turned back, he inclined his head to Adrien and Marinette in turn. “Thank you for what you have done today and for everything you have done before. It was not easy, and the path forward will not be easy, either. You may choose to give up your Miraculous now if you wish, but if you are willing to continue to serve others, the time has come for me to teach you more about your powers.”

Neither of them said anything, and Plagg was cast a worried a glance at Adrien. Master Fu turned to him first. “You expressed doubt about my decision, but I believe your actions have proven that you are trustwor—”

“I didn’t tell you everything,” Adrien broke in. “My father…. He was injured when I left. Nathalie found him, but I don’t know—”

“Wayzz?”

“I’ll see what I can find, Master.” The kwami zipped through the wall, and Master Fu knew he would be quick and discreet. 

“It is natural to worry, but you must not let it consume you,” Master Fu said. “Mistakes are made. That you doubt your ability when you are trying to do good merely tells me that you are the right person to keep Plagg’s company, for you will not be reckless with his power.” He turned to Marinette. “And you, young lady, have come farther than I had ever hoped. You have bloomed in your time with Tikki.”

Neither of them said anything else, so he excused himself to allow them some time to think it over and went to wait out front for Wayzz. The kwami eventually returned with news that Gabriel was recovering in the hospital and had told everyone that he and Adrien had stumbled upon an attempted robbery. When this story was repeated to Adrien, he looked relieved by the news of his father but laughed bitterly at the accompanying story. “Nathalie’s work,” he said, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

“It gives you time to work things out,” Marinette pointed out.

“Time won’t fix this.”

“It won’t if you don’t try.”

“I’m not convinced I should. And…and I don’t know if I should keep being Chat Noir while living under my father’s roof. It might even be too dangerous for Marinette to continue to be Ladybug.”

“I’ll take the risk. I don’t want to stop helping people. I understand if you don’t feel you can keep being my partner, kitty, but…. I’ll miss you. It won’t be the same.”

“Nothing stays the same forever.”

“And nothing should,” Master Fu interrupted gently, “but do not let fear of your father guide your decision, Adrien.”

Adrien was quiet for a few moments before finally admitting, “I don’t know if I’m ready to stop. I don’t think I’ve proved myself yet.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself,” Marinette started to say. “That’s not—”

“I meant to myself,” Adrien explained. “I feel like I can do so much good as Chat Noir, but I don’t always do as much as I can, and I end up thinking…. That I messed up, I guess. That I should have done more. Prevented something. Saved somebody. Even….” He trailed off. Marinette prompted him, and he reluctantly finished, “Even small things, just to do some good. Like with Lucille and Henri’s son, Pierre. When I spoke with her, she said he was a fan of us and asked for my autograph to give him, so I thought it would be nice if Ladybug and Chat Noir could take a picture together and sign it for him. And then everything happened, and….”

Marinette reached out to squeeze his hand. “We’ll take that picture, kitty, and get it printed and signed and drop it off ourselves. I promise.” 

Adrien smiled at her and Marinette pinked, pulling her hand back, and Master Fu shared a knowing look with the kwami. He cleared his throat to regain the teenagers’ attention and then asked, “Have you decided if you would like to continue, or would you prefer to make that decision after you have taken this photograph?”

Adrien reached for Marinette’s hand and squeezed it. At a nod from her, he answered, “We’re Ladybug and Chat Noir, and we’ll continue to protect Paris for as long as we can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Et c’est fini_! I hope everyone enjoyed the story, and if you did, I would appreciate hearing that so I know. Thank you!


End file.
